


A Prince Among Men

by SemperFidelis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 87
Words: 289,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3069395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SemperFidelis/pseuds/SemperFidelis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Azalea Bennett gets on the wrong train at Kings Cross and is transported to a world she never knew existed and in which she has to find her place. She learns skills she thought were only true in fairy tales, she meets new people and gets drawn into their lives and a certain potions teacher gets drawn into hers. Severus Snape discovers life and love doesn’t begin and end with Lily Evans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> The story starts at the beginning of The Goblet of Fire and will go all the way the end of Deathly Hallows.  
> 

Severus Snape was dreaming. It was a dream he had had countless times in the past 14 years. A young woman with auburn hair was standing in front of a child’s cot begging for the life of her child. "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside you silly girl … stand aside now." 

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead ----- Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy”. 

The man in the room with her, if you could still call him a man with his snake like features and cold red eyes, gazed at her without compassion, raised his wand, said the words “Avada Kedavra” and a stream of green lightning flew to hit her square in the heart and she fell to the floor with a last loving look at her child. The man then turned to the child sensing that victory was almost his. He threw the same curse at the defenceless infant. Instead of the expected tiny body at his feet he saw a flash of green rebound in his direction and felt a searing pain in his own head. He screamed in confusion and defeat as he realised he had been hit by his own curse, not yet understanding how this has happened he fled the scene of his own downfall leaving the child crying for his mother who could no longer hear him and had given her life to protect him.

Snape ran into the room and saw the woman unmoving on the floor. He added his heart wrenching cry to that of the weeping child. He gathered her in his arms saying “Lily, Lily my love” over and over again as if by saying her name and pouring out his love for her he could bring her back to life and everything would be as it should have been. 

At this point in the dream he usually woke up shaking and with tears in his eyes, but this time it was different. The dream continued. He became aware of a humming noise, still holding Lily close, he turned his head to the corner of the room and saw a movement coming from the gap between the floorboard and the skirting boards. A large golden bee crept out onto the floor, stretched her wings and launched herself into the air. The source of the humming then became apparent, following their queen came the rest of the swarm, first a trickle, like honey dripping from a spoon, then an outpouring as if the jar had been upended. The sound of the humming increased until it filled his ears blocking out any other noises. He glanced over at the boy still in the cot, who had now ceased his crying and was standing motionless watching with fascination as the swarm moved as one following their queen. Not wanting to risk any sudden movements and so attract the attention of the swarm, Snape followed with his eyes as the queen led her army towards the window which had broken when the curse had so spectacularly backfired . The jagged panes of glass stood like sentinels in the window frames. With a sudden surge forward the queen increased her velocity and shot out through the window with the swarm in close pursuit. Snape watched them disappear into the morning light as they flew away from the scene to find a new home away from this place of destruction and heartbreak.

He awoke with a start. He heard a buzzing in his room and saw the colours of dawn creeping around the edges of the window. He identified the buzzing as a large bluebottle fly which had become trapped in the lampshade beside his bed, its iridescent body reflecting the reds of the emerging sun and turning it a purple bruise against the glass of the lampshade. He knew he would get no more sleep this night. 

In the past he had tried to stop the dreams by taking a strong sleeping draught, like dreamless sleep potion, and to a degree it had worked but drugged sleep was no substitute for natural restful sleep. Now he could not even take the draughts because it made him vulnerable to attack both mentally and physically and he needed to remain alert if he was to help protect her son. He pushed the bed covers from him and sat up swinging his legs over the side of the bed in one fluid movement. He remembered that today was the beginning of a new term, her son would be starting his fourth year, and by the time the day was out the school would once again be full of sounds and he would no longer be alone with his thoughts.

Picking up the lamp containing the trapped fly, he carried to the window, slid up the sash window and shook the lampshade until the fly found its way out and flew off into the sunrise. Snape watched wistfully and wished he could escape his own trap so easily. Turning back into the room he returned the lamp to its place by his bed and slowly got dressed ready to start the new term presenting the cold eyed face to the world that was all anyone could ever see.


	2. Kings Cross

Azalea Bennett stopped and hitched her rucksack further up her shoulders as she stomped up the road towards Kings Cross railway station. The thing was getting heavier by the minute but that was just typical of the day – no, the week - she was having. It didn’t help that it was pouring with rain.

On Monday when she turned up at work she had been told that her contract would be terminated early. Friday would be her last working day. She’d known she was only on a temporary contract but had expected another month of work out of it. Her supervisor was very complimentary about her attitude to work and her diligence but there was simply no more work for her to do and so they had to let her go early but would be only too pleased to give her a reference for her next job. 

Azalea cursed herself as a fool for being too efficient. She knew several people at the staff agency who said they deliberately worked at a pace to ensure that the work filled the time available. Not for the first time she thought she should follow their example, but she wouldn’t feel true to herself if she worked like that. She believed she should do her best at every task and would ask co-workers for clarification if she was stuck, or research the details of the job in her own time to make sure she was doing it properly. As a result she now had a good basic knowledge of all sorts of careers – accountancy, advertising, shipping, youth work, - where she had gone in to do temporary work. It had been 4 years since she’d last had a permanent job and that had been 4 years of taking any job which matched her skills and a few which didn’t. She’d left university with a second class degree in English and high hopes of setting the world on fire with her enthusiasm and skill. Her first job as an editorial assistant for a publishing company lasted for 6 years before the company went under and all the staff joined the ranks of the unemployed. Now at 31 years’ old she was once again jobless and for the first time, homeless.

She had inherited a house when her mother had died together with a small investment portfolio which seemed to pay out less and less as time went by. She found that if she took in paying lodgers and combined it with the money from the investments the income would just about cover the costs of owning the house but there was never any money to spare unless she worked as well. She had on more than one occasion considered selling the house but wasn’t yet ready to cut all the ties with the memory of her mother and all the time she could get work she rationalised that she didn’t yet need to sell it. 

Whilst she’d been working at this current job she had taken on a bedsit near to her workplace in order to reduce commuting costs and she had rented out her own bedroom at her own house. The bedsit was in Grimmauld Place which was a short walk from Kings Cross. She was grateful for that today with the weight of the rucksack crushing down on her shoulders and the rain finding any gap it could in her raincoat, soon she’d be soaked inside and outside. In the house where she stayed every room was used as a bedsit, with one shared bathroom and two shared toilets for all the residents. The quality of the rooms reflected the grimness of the exterior with its peeling paint on the front door, cracked window panes and a pile of rubbish outside the front steps as no one seemed to think it was their job to put it in the dustbin. Her room was tiny, a single bed which doubled as a sofa, a small table and hard chair, a two ring cooker and a small sink. The sink was nominally for the washing up but she often had to have a stand up body wash next to it when the bathroom was occupied, or there was no hot water left for baths, which happened several times a week. The walls of her room were painted a dingy brown colour. To brighten it up she had added colour by sticking on the wall pictures taken from the Sunday newspaper colour supplements, a mix of wildlife photographs, city scenes, landscapes and photographs showing the latest interior design concept of houses she could never hope to afford. When the landlord of the bedsit discovered she had lost her job he told her to leave at the end of the week.

As she walked out of Grimmauld Place for the last time she wondered, as she frequently had, why there was no number 12. She knew that number 13 was often omitted from street numbering because of superstition but why number 12? She supposed that now she’d never find out.

Azalea needed somewhere else to live. Thinking she had a longer employment contract, she’d let out her bedroom in her own house and she had to give one month’s notice to end the tenancy, which she hadn’t yet done. Her aunt Lucy who lived in Stevenage had an open invitation for Azalea to stay with her at any time she wanted and Azalea now decided to take Lucy up on her offer whilst she considered where her life was going. Aunt Lucy wasn’t a real aunt but she had been a good friend to Azalea’s mother and was also Azalea’s godmother. So Azalea now had all her worldly goods packed into the rucksack on her back, enough cash to buy a train ticket to Stevenage and an urgent need to start looking for another job before her meagre savings in the bank ran out. She had never felt brought so low.

She walked into the railway station glad to be out of the rain and went to the ticket office to get a single ticket to Stevenage. The man at the ticket office, observing the large rucksack on her small frame and her young looking face which belied her real age, remarked that he thought people ran away from Stevenage to Kings Cross not the other way around. She smiled and said that she’d already done that but had discovered the streets of London weren’t paved with gold so was now going back to where the streets were paved with concrete, which might be boring but at least no one would try to steal it from you. He said he wished a few more people would realise that, he had seen so many runaways arriving at Kings Cross and the life they ended up living on the streets made him think boring was the better option. She thanked him for the ticket, took it and made her way to the platform entrance. She looked up at the information screen and saw the next train to Stevenage left in 25 minutes from platform 9. 

Arriving at platform 9 she was amazed to see an old fashioned steam train waiting at the platform. She saw the guard and asked him surely this wasn’t the train the Stevenage? He told her indeed it was. There was a steam fair celebration today and several vintage engines were being used. He advised her to get her seat soon because there was lots of interest and the train would soon fill up. She looked around and saw that there were a large number of people on platforms 9 and 10. Some of them were most peculiarly dressed but perhaps that was normal for steam train enthusiasts. She decided to walk further down the platform to get a better look at the steam engine pulling the carriages before she found her seat. As she approached the wall between platforms 9 and 10 she heard a gaggle of voices behind her, turning round she was engulfed by a crowd of people rushing down the platform to look at the steam engine. She stepped back sharply to avoid being crushed and felt herself falling, she put her hand out to support herself against the dividing wall but her hand touched nothing. 

She stumbled and corrected herself before she fell face first onto the platform. Looking around she saw that she had somehow missed being crushed against the wall. She could still see the sign for platform number 9 although it was partially obscured by an ornate roof truss but she decided to get on the train straight away in view of the large crowd she had just avoided. As she walked towards the front of the train she noticed that there were a large number of secondary school age children with an array of trunks and suitcases to put on the train, for some reason they also had their pets with them and it seemed that cats and owls were the fashionable pets these days. She assumed she was witnessing a school trip because as far as she knew Stevenage was not a destination of choice for youngsters. 

She reached the front of the train. The engine pulling the train was impressive, much bigger than she had expected; scarlet in colour with the smoke box painted black, it had 3 large driving wheels which were almost as tall as Azalea. Behind the engine was hitched the coal truck filled to capacity. The engine was already running and steam filled the air of the platform drifting over the heads of the ever growing crowd on the platform and then rising up and dissipating in the void of the station roof like early morning fog. She spotted an empty compartment on one of the carriages and she got on before the train got too crowded. 

The interior of the train was plush by any standards, the seats were upholstered in a red check pattern which complemented the exterior colour of the carriage. There was no sign of wear on the upholstery, no bits of chewing gum stuck to the seat which was impossible to remove if it fixed itself to clothing, no cigarette burns, no week old crumbs or litter stuck down between the cushions, no wonder it had been called it the glorious age of steam. There was a small table by the window with a table lamp on it and the windows had a pair of pale pink curtains currently tucked into retainers at the edge of window. Above the seats was a luggage rack. Knowing that she lacked strength to lift her rucksack onto the luggage rack she took a forward facing window seat and put the rucksack on the seat next to her effectively blocking her from the view of anyone other than a person sitting in the seat opposite. She reasoned that if the train got full then someone would have to help her lift the rucksack if they wanted a seat. She removed her wet coat and hung on the curtain retainer to drip dry and took a book to read from her rucksack so that she wouldn’t have to engage in conversation with anyone getting into the same carriage. After a short while she heard the whistle blow, the sound of doors slamming and people walking down the corridor as they searched for seats. The door of her compartment opened and in came a young man of around 17 or 18 years old who Azalea noted was extremely handsome with dark brown hair and grey eyes, although far too young for her to take an interest in. He was accompanied by a pretty Chinese girl a year or so younger than him. They took the seat opposite her, sitting close together, barely giving Azalea a second glance and ignoring her for the rest of the journey being only interested in each other. This was fine by Azalea. 

As the journey progressed Azalea occasionally glanced over at the couple remembering her teenage years and Stuart, her first love, when everything was new and emotions so intense. They started at the same secondary school when they were 11 and were part of the same group of friends. As the group progressed up the school they started to pair off with each other, then break up and go out with a different person in the group. She started dating Stuart when they were 16. He was a decent lad and she had fond memories of him. Somehow the friendship group remained strong and they still met up regularly to talk about old times and see where their lives had taken them. On reflection she was glad that she hadn’t settled for the first person she fell in love with, there was so much more to see in the world before that sort of commitment. In any case, she and Stuart had taken different paths and both had changed so much she felt sure that if they had married at a young age they would have divorced by now, so it was better all round the way it was. She’d been out with several other men since then and one where the relationship had ended abruptly and had broken her heart. She had come to terms with that, although she didn’t dwell on it very often and wasn’t going to do so now. At the moment she was single again, footloose and fancy free, as aunt Lucy would say. Her priority was looking for permanent job, getting some stability in her life and then maybe she could think about dating again. 

She stopped her musing and resumed reading her book. After a while the motion of the train and the rhythmic clackity clack sound of the wheels against the rails lulled her into a deep sleep.


	3. Hogwarts

The train cruised to a stop and the change in motion woke Azalea up. Thank goodness Stevenage is the end of the line otherwise who knows how long I’d’ve slept, she thought.

Her companions in the carriage gathered their belongings, which she noted was two large trunks and an owl each in a cage. What’s with the owls? she thought again. They left the carriage without a backward glance to her. She picked up her coat which had dried a bit on the journey but she could hear the rain pounding on the roof of the train, so she put it back on although it still felt clammy. She hastily returned her book, which had fallen on the floor while she was sleeping, into her rucksack, then toted the rucksack onto her shoulders and left the carriage. As she stepped out of the train she didn’t recognise the station at all. She had been to Stevenage railway station on many occasions and she knew she must have missed the station, but where was she?

“Toto I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,” she quoted to herself as she looked around. She was at a tiny station, with just a single platform and suspected that it was one of those unmanned stations. She became aware of how dark it was. Surely the journey to Stevenage shouldn’t have taken more than an hour on a slow steam train? She looked at her watch, hours had passed since she got on the train. How on earth had she slept for so long? 

The other passengers had got off the train by now, she saw some heading off to the right and others standing around not knowing what to do. She decided to join the undecided passengers and stay where she was. Then she heard a voice shouting “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here”. She was more convinced than ever now that she had somehow got caught up in a school trip. Then she noticed the owner of the voice. He was the tallest man she had ever seen, not only was he tall he was broad as well. He had a head of shaggy unkempt hair and a wild tangled beard. Despite his fearsome appearance he was trying to shepherd the undecideds towards him in a kindly fashion. Azalea shifted the rucksack on her shoulders and the movement attracted his attention. He stared at her and then comprehension dawned on his face and he said “Oh yeah, Dumbledore said we may have an unexpected visitor. Yeh gotta go over there wi’ that lot – get on a coach. Dumbledore’ll meet yeh at th’ cas’le”. He gestured in the direction the decideds had gone and returned to his other charges. Behind her, Azalea heard the steam train start to move away now that it was empty of passengers. Being short of options she went off the right to see what coach she was meant to get on and perhaps find out who this Dumbeldore was.

She walked to the end of the platform which then turned into a mud track, the condition worse than it would normally have been because of the continuing rain. At the end of the track was a procession of stagecoaches each being pulled by the most peculiar creature she had ever seen. At first glance it resembled a black flying horse but one so malnourished it had turned to skin and bones. Bat-like wings sprouted from its shoulders. The head looked reptilian but with blank white eyes as if they suffered from severe cataracts. Yet in some way the overall effect was of an eerie elegance and beauty. “We are definitely not in Kansas, Toto,” she repeated quietly to herself.

She arrived at the coaches to see that most had already moved off and she joined the stragglers waiting to board the last ones. She got on to the carriage that was next in line to leave. It was already occupied by two girls of around 13 years old who looked at her curiously. She sat down opposite them and put her rucksack on the seat next to her. “Where is this coach going?” she asked them.

“Hogwarts Castle of course,” one of them replied. 

“Well to the school part of it, anyway,” added the other girl.

The clarification did little to help Azalea’s understanding. “And you two go the school I suppose?”

“Yes.”

“Is it a good school?”

“Oh yes,” the second girl said enthusiastically, “it’s the best magic school there it. I love coming here. I’m in Hufflepuff”.

Azalea had no idea what Hufflepuff referred to but she asked, “What other performing arts does it teach, other than magic? Do you learn dancing, music, acting or circus skills?”

“No,” said the first girl giving her a withering stare. “Do you think we are muggles? We only learn real magic.”

Before Azalea had a chance to question the girls further about the nature of this school, the second girl pointed out of the window of the coach and said, “Look you can see the castle now, up there.”

Azalea eyes followed where the girl had pointed and to her astonishment saw an enormous castle nestled at the base of a mountain. The castle was several stories high, with many turrets and towers pointing into the sky, it looked to her like an oversize stereotypical French Chateau. The carriages were aiming for an imposing entrance gate with winged boars on the columns supporting them. Azalea wondered why she had never heard of this place. The tourists must flock here and it would be more convenient than going to France to see chateaux. The carriage entered the gates and continued up the long sloping drive up to the castle. Forgetting the questions she was going to ask the girls, she watched as the castle drew nearer. It looked as if it had built centuries ago and she marvelled at the architectural and construction effort that must have gone into building it. The more pragmatic part of her mind considered how difficult and expensive it must be to maintain it nowadays. 

The carriage drew to a halt and the girls got out. Azalea followed them out and found herself in front of a wide set of stone steps leading to an enormous oak door. The school children were confidently walking up the steps clearly knowing where they were going. Azalea hesitated not knowing quite what to do, when she saw the most unusually dressed man coming down the steps towards her. He was tall and thin and wearing a deep green robe covered in intricately embroidered moon and star motifs. On his feet he had black boots sporting a silver buckle. He had long silver hair and a matching silver beard both of which reached down to below his waist. She wondered whether this was some sort of religious school but she’d never seen a monk’s habit so brightly coloured. She looked up at his face, it was wrinkled in the way that men’s faces do which makes them “distinguished” rather than old, he had half moon spectacles over his intelligent bright blue eyes and a long crooked nose. He walked straight up to her and said, “You’re very late, I expected you years ago. You have a lot of catching up to do and not much time to do it.”

“I take it you’re Dumbledore,” she said, “the large man at the station said you’d meet me here.”

“How very impolite I’ve been, allow me to introduce myself, I am Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin (First Class), Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, but - more importantly to our discussion – headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The large man at the station was Rubeus Hagrid, our gamekeeper and care of magical creatures’ professor. Now, what is your name? I’ve known you were coming but I’ve never known what to call you.”

“By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes,” quoted Azalea, ignoring his request for her name.

“Ah a quote from Shakespeare,” he said “a good playwright for a muggle but sadly mistaken about the nature of witches and wizards, his plays set back our cause for centuries.” 

“Azalea Bennett,” she supplied her name.

“Something wicked does indeed come this way, Azalea, but it’s not you.”

Feeling that she needed to understand exactly what was going on she steered the subject back to his initial comment. “What exactly am I late for, what is this place, what’s a muggle, what’s Hufflepuff, why have I never seen this castle on any tourist map and where exactly am I?”

“Oh dear,” he said “you really know nothing about us do you? Come into my office and I’ll try to explain it to you.”

He led her indoors into a large entrance hall, lit with what looked like old fashioned flame torches, she couldn’t make out the ceiling because the light from the torches didn’t reach that high. A magnificent marble staircase led to the upper floors which she followed him up and along a confusing set of stairs and corridors until they reached a gargoyle. Dumbledore said the words “sherbet lemon” to it and it moved aside revealing a spiral staircase. Azalea stepped onto it after him but before she took the next step the staircase started to move and they slowly rose upwards. “I’ve never seen a spiral escalator before,” she said to him, “where’s the motor kept, it must be a complicated arrangement?” He didn’t reply to her question. At the top of the stairs was a wooden double door which he opened to reveal a large circular room with bookshelves full to capacity. On entering the office the first thing she noticed was that the wall was covered with portraits. Seeing her looking at them he said, “previous headmasters and headmistresses”. There was a large rectangular work desk with chairs either side of it but there were also several spindly legged tables with intricate devices on them the uses of which Azalea had no idea. There also appeared to be a bird cage suspended from the ceiling but it was covered up and she couldn’t see what type of bird was in it.

Dumbledore gestured to a chair on one side of the desk. She removed her rucksack which she was still carrying, relieved to have the weight off her shoulders.

“Would you like some pumpkin juice?” he said indicating a jug of juice on the desk. She’d rather have had a gin and tonic but accepted the pumpkin juice anyway since it was already made and she didn’t want to waste any more time before getting her questions answered. The pumpkin juice tasted better than she expected and she idly wondered how it was made and who had made it.

“Well, now to answer your questions. Firstly, we are in Scotland. The castle isn’t on any tourist maps because it is unplottable and has been bewitched so if anyone approaches the castle all they see is a ruin with signs saying “Danger - Keep Out”.”

Azalea snorted at the last piece of information, “As if “keep out” signs would deter trespassers” she said, “a lot of people would see that as a challenge.”

“Nevertheless it appears to work,” said Dumbledore patiently. “Secondly, a muggle is a non-magical person. This place is a school for wizards and witches, Hufflepuff is one of the houses within the school. Finally, you are late for your magical education, you should have arrived when you were 11 years’ old.” 

Azalea stared at him with incredulity. “You’ve got to be joking,” she said. “There’s no way I’ve travelled from London to Scotland in an old steam train in a few hours. There’s no such thing as magic or witches and wizards, except in story books. I’m not magical and I left school 10 years ago I’m a bit old to start again.”

Dumbledore regarded her with wry amusement unsurprised by her scepticism. “The world of magic operates outside of the parameters you are used to in the muggle world and you have indeed travelled here from London today” he said. “You passed the enchanted barrier to platform 9 ¾ at Kings Cross and got on the Hogwarts Express, you can see Hogwarts as a castle not as ruin, you must be magical even to do those things. Why we were not able find you when you were 11 years old I don’t yet know but I do know it is imperative that you start your magical training now. It is too dangerous to have unschooled witches and wizards in the muggle world, such people have no control over their power and it can lead to, at best, accidents and, at worst, untold death and destruction”.

“Has that ever happened?” she asked, “untrained wizards causing death and destruction?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he replied, “that was one of the reasons that the magic schools were set up around one thousand years ago, to identify people with magical abilities and to train them to use the power properly.”

“But in all that time there must have been a few bad apples who went on to cause death and destruction,” she observed.

“Indeed there have been,” he admitted. “Being magical doesn’t make you a saint or a sinner, we have different personalities and characteristics, just like muggles. At least if everyone with magic goes to school then they are known about by someone in the wizard world and can be watched before things get too far out of hand.”

Azalea couldn’t believe she was sitting having a serious conversation about magic, witches and wizards but there was still one thing that had not yet been shown and she mentioned it now. “OK say I accept that this is a school for real magic, even though I was able to board the train and get here, it still doesn’t prove I can do magic, nothing out the ordinary has ever happened to me that would indicate I can do magic. Prove to me that I am a witch.”

Dumbledore sighed, it was easier dealing with children; they wanted to believe. However, he reached into his desk and pulled out a short, intricately carved stick which he handed to her. “Now what?” she said.

“I’ve just given you a wand,” he said, “if you’ve got any magical ability then you will be able to do a simple levitation spell. Say the words “wingardium leviosa” whilst pointing the wand at any object in this room although I suggest you choose a small unbreakable one for your first attempt.”

Feeling rather foolish Azalea pointed the wand at a small book on the edge of the desk, she waved the wand at it saying “windgardium leviosa” as instructed. To her amazement the book lifted off the desk. She dropped the wand in surprise and the book fell down too. She picked up the wand and tried it again. This time she kept the wand trained on the book and moved it off the desk and onto a nearby table. Convinced it was still some sort of illusion, she went her rucksack and took out the book she had been reading on the train. She was certain that would not have been interfered with. Again she was able to move it about. Feeling more ambitious she pointed the wand at the rucksack and lifted the whole thing up. She squealed in delight. “I could have done with this earlier today - that rucksack is heavy, I could have saved myself from backache.”

“Are you convinced yet?” Dumbledore asked.

“I’m getting there”, she responded.

Just then a bell chimed seemingly from nowhere and Dumbledore said, “I’m afraid we will have to continue our little discussion later, my presence is required in the Great Hall, where we will also have the first feast. You are welcome join us and then you can stay tonight and we can talk more tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she said, “I’d appreciate a bed for the night and some food”. She bent down to pick up her rucksack.

“You can leave that here,” he said, “I’ll get it moved to your room while we eat.”

“Can I keep this?” she asked indicating the wand. 

“Yes until you get your own”.

Stuffing the wand into the body of her rucksack and securing the top of the bag she followed him out of the office still feeling bewildered about the strange day she was having.


	4. First Impressions

Azalea and Dumbledore retraced their steps back to the entrance hall and through a set of double doors which opened out into a quite remarkable room which Dumbledore told her was known as the Great Hall. It well deserved its name. Four very long tables spanned the length of the hall side by side. Each table must have seated about two hundred students. Azalea noticed that the students at each table wore a slightly different uniform to the others, so she assumed these must be the houses that Dumbledore had alluded to earlier. The basic uniform appeared to be a set of black robes but she could see that they were edged in a different colour on each table – red, yellow, green and blue. As she walked by she also noticed the robes also sported a school badge and they differed too – one was a lion, one a badger, one a snake and the other one an eagle. 

The room was lit by hundreds of candles floating in the air just above the tables. She looked upwards to see if the height of the room was in proportion to its other dimensions but to her surprise saw the night sky with the storm clouds racing across it and the occasional flash of lightening which did not light up the rest of the hall as it split open the night sky, neither could she hear the thunder which should follow. There was no movement of air which she would have expected if the room was open to the heavens and no rain falling into the room, so she concluded that the skyscape above was simply an illusion, but effective all the same.

She returned her gaze forwards and saw that they were now approaching the far end of the hall where there was a raised platform upon which was set another long table arranged perpendicular to the student’s tables. Seated at the top table were about 40 adults also wearing dark coloured robes. She began to feel a bit out of place in her jeans and sweatshirt. Dumbledore approached the table and he directed her to an empty seat between a very short man and a ginger haired woman of middle age. He then took his own seat a few places along and turned to look down the hall where a procession of bedraggled children, led by a tall, severe looking woman dressed in emerald coloured robes, filed up the hall and stood in a row across the front of the high table. The tall women then placed a three legged stool on the floor and resting on that was a battered wizard’s hat. The hall fell silent and then to Azalea’s surprise she could hear a song coming from the hat. She listened to the words.

"A thousand years or more ago,  
When I was newly sewn,  
There lived four wizards of renown,  
Whose names are still well known;

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,  
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  
They hatched a daring plan  
To educate young sorcerers  
Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders  
Formed their own house, for each  
Did value different virtues  
In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were  
Prized far beyond the rest;  
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  
Would always be the best;  
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were  
Most worthy of admission;  
And power-hungry Slytherin  
Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide  
Their favourites from the throng,  
Yet how to pick the worthy ones  
When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  
He whipped me off his head  
The founders put some brains in me  
So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,  
I've never yet been wrong,  
I'll have to look inside your mind  
And tell where you belong!"

The woman in emerald then said to the waiting children in front of the high table, “When I call your name, put on the hat and sit on the stool. When the hat announces your house you will go and sit at the appropriate table.”

“Ackerley, Stewart!”

A trembling boy came forward and did as instructed. “Ravenclaw!” shouted the hat. The boy removed the hat and then went to join the cheering students at the Ravenclaw table.

Azalea watched the next few children being assigned to various houses. She then leaned over to the woman she was sitting next to and quietly asked her what exactly was happening.

The woman looked at her with some surprise and said, “Why it’s the sorting ceremony, the hat chooses which house the student goes into. The house is like your second family, the students have house dormitories where they all live and a common room where they spend their spare time. The students also earn house points for good behaviour and effort or they lose points for rule-breaking. At the end of the year the house with the most points wins the house cup.”

“So let me get this straight, the hat somehow or other can look into the mind, assess the personality or character traits and then put the student into a house with like minded people,” Azalea queried.

“That’s about right,” replied her neighbour.

Azalea considered the matter for a few seconds and then asked, “Is it wise to label people at such a young age based on their personality? People change as they get older. Doesn’t the sorting then become a self fulfilling prophecy because demonstration of the traits prized by the house would be rewarded and so reinforce a repeat of that particular behaviour? Wouldn’t it be better to mix them up a bit – perhaps just choose by lottery? I thought variety was the spice of life?”

“It’s been done this way for centuries and has worked quite well,” came the reply.

“I know there is a saying “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it” but if nobody ever tries to change things then nothing gets better, we’d still be in the stone age. It is good to question how things are done from time to time rather than passively accepting that everything is fine. That way you could find yourself sleepwalking into disaster.” Azalea responded with an element of passion.

“Perhaps it is something you should take up with the headmaster,” said the woman sharply, trying to end the discussion.

“Perhaps I will,” Azalea said glaring down the table. Her attention was caught by a man sitting a few places from her who had clearly been observing the exchange. He looked about mid 30s in age, he had a pale complexion and shoulder length black hair with a severe centre parting, his hair was perfectly straight and she envied him that. She had mousy brown hair that was neither straight nor curly, just some sort of wavy in between the two. Over the years she’d tried to adapt it to curly styles and then to straight styles and changed the colour from blonde to black going through pinks and blues on the way. She finally concluded that the effort and time involved wasn’t really worth the result unless it was for a special occasion, now she largely left her hair as nature had intended and as long as it was clean and well cut she had resigned herself to its imperfections. The man noticed her regarding him and he quickly looked away and paid attention to the sorting of the students which was still in progress.

Azalea decided she had probably got off on the wrong foot with her neighbour so she turned to her and said in a conversational tone, “I’m sorry I haven’t yet introduced myself, my name is Azalea Bennett.”

The woman accepted the proffered olive branch and responded, “I’m Charity Burbage, I’m the muggle studies teacher here at Hogwarts”, she indicated the man to the other side of Azalea, “this is Filius Flitwick, he is the Charms teacher and head of Ravenclaw sitting next to him is Pamona Sprout, Herbology teacher and head of Hufflepuff house.”

Azalea nodded her greetings not wanting to talk over the sorting proceedings which went from quiet, while the hat was cogitating, to raucous cheering when the house was announced. “Who are the other heads of houses?” she asked.

“That would be Minerva McGonagall who’s supervising the sorting, she’s head of Gryfindor and the head of Slytherin is Severus Snape,” and she indicated the man Azalea had been watching earlier. “Now please let us know what your job will be at Hogwarts?” 

Azalea flushed and responded slightly embarrassed, “I’m afraid I’m not really sure. I arrived here in error after getting on the wrong train. The headmaster and I were discussing what to do with me when he was called away to attend this sorting ceremony.”

“Nobody arrives at Hogwarts by accident,” said Charity with much certainty in her voice. “Dumbledore will have it all in hand.”

“So he’s used to dealing with waifs and strays, is he then?” asked Azalea.

Charity laughed, an infectious sound that lit up her plain features and made Azalea smile in spite of herself, “Oh yes he collects waifs and strays the way other people collect postage stamps. You’ll see some of them here if you stay.”

They lapsed into silence for a while and continued to watch the sorting ceremony. In due course, McGonagall announced the final student- Whitby, Kevin (Hufflepuff) – and she picked up the stool and hat and took them away. Dumbldedore then rose to his feet and announced “tuck in” to rapturous applause. To Azalea’s immense surprise the empty serving platters suddenly filled themselves up with food and she saw the students start tucking in with abandon. The staff were more reserved and the dishes were politely handed round so that each person could fill their plates. The sight and smell of the food reminded Azalea about how hungry she was, it had been hours since she had last eaten and she was ready for food. After a few mouthfuls she had taken the edge off her appetite and looked around for something to drink. There were pitchers on the table which she recognised as being the same as those in Dumbledore’s office and concluded they were filled with pumpkin juice. It was not pumpkin juice she wanted she’d prefer water or better still some wine. She turned to Filius Flitick (as Charity was engrossed in eating) and asked him if there was any wine. 

“Of course there is,” he replied and turning in the other direction he stated in a loud voice, “Severus stop hogging the wine and pass it up here, we’re all dying of thirst up this end.” The dark haired man scowled and with a flourish of his wand the wine floated up towards Flitwick, who gallantly poured wine for Azalea before filling his own glass. As he put the wine bottle down Azalea noticed that the level of wine in the bottle was unchanged. “How come the wine in the bottle isn’t going down at all and we’ve had two more glasses?” she asked Flitwick. 

“It’s a refillable bottle,” he said, “there’s a charm on it and it will keep full for as long as we need it.”

“A refillable bottle means something entirely different where I come from, but I think I prefer your definition. I could do with two more of these,” she joked.

“So, where do you come from?” enquired Flitwick, who was curious to know who this stranger was.

“Until this morning I’ve been living in London,” she informed him, “but I’m a born and bred Home Counties’ girl.”

He didn’t really know what the Home Counties were but was more interested in why she was here, so he let than piece of information go, and asked how she had come to Hogwarts. She briefly told him the story of getting on the wrong train and ending up at Hogwarts and now being unsure of what her role here was. However, Dumbledore had indicated that she needed an education in magic and he was going to discuss the details with her tomorrow. As she conversed with Flitwick, she found that she was talking about magic as if it were completely normal and she thought perhaps she had better slow down on the wine consumption or she’d find herself believing it was real. 

Finally the meal drew to a close, the dinner plates had magically disappeared and had been replaced by dessert which was just as good as the main course. She raised her glass and announced to her neighbours, “My compliments to the chef. Who is the chef anyway? You must have a huge catering department here.”

“Oh no, it’s all done by the house elves,” she was informed by Charity.

“I know this is probably a stupid question but what are house elves?” she enquired.

Being the Muggle Studies teacher, Charity explained in terms she thought a muggle could understand. “They are like servants in large mansions. They do the cooking and the cleaning and they get satisfaction from doing so.”

“OK, “said Azalea, “I’d like to meet them later and thank them for the lovely meal.”

“They’re very shy and keep themselves to themselves,” said Charity, she was going to continue to provide more information but at that point Dumbledore stood up and made a few announcements. Azalea listened as he told the students about a list of objects banned from the school by the caretaker (it seemed an extremely long list) and Dumbledore exhorted them not to go the Forbidden Forest or into a nearby village. Azalea thought once again that just telling children not to do things was a sure fire way of ensuring that some of them would. Perhaps things were different in the wizard world, or punishments more severe. 

Dumbledore then announced that there would be no inter-house Quidditch cup this year to an audience were stunned into silence. Azalea had no idea what Quidditch was but it was obviously important to the school. Before the students in the hall had a chance to erupt into a noisy protest Dumbledore quickly continued to explain that would be a special event starting in October. He was just about to elaborate when the doors of the Great Hall burst open and in the doorway stood a man shrouded in a black travelling cloak. The man walked the length of the hall and Azalea could see he had a heavy limp, every other step accompanied by a dull thud. He reached the table and headed towards Dumbledore removing his cloak as he did so. Azalea stared at him unashamedly, as did most of the other people in the room, he face was badly scarred, most of his nose was missing but it was his eyes that drew the attention. He had obviously lost an eye at some point and it had been replaced by the strangest artificial eye she had ever seen. No attempt had been made to match it to his natural eye, which was small and dark, instead the eye socket was filled with a large bright blue orb which rotated in all directions not mirroring the movement of his natural eye in the slightest. As Azalea had suspected, the man was missing a leg and had an artificial leg which gave him his pronounced limp. Dumbledore and the traveller exchanged a few words in a quiet undertone and the man then took the empty seat next to Dumbledore. To Azalea’s eyes there was something not quite right about him, his physical appearance aside, it was as if he was fuzzy round the edges, slightly out of focus but for all she knew of wizards that could be entirely normal.

Dumbledore then introduced the strange man as Professor Moody, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. A couple of the teachers applauded politely and Azalea joined in but otherwise there was silence from the rest of the assembly. 

Dumbledore then continued speaking picking up from what he was saying before the interruption, “We have the honour of hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year which has not been held for over a century. For those of you don’t know, the Triwizard Tournament is a friendly competition between three European schools of wizardry: - Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrong. Each school will propose candidates for the competition, who must be over 17 years old, one will be chosen from each school. The three successful candidates will then undergo three tests of their magic, skill and bravery. The winner will receive 1,000 galleons in personal prize money and the glory for their school. The delegations from the other schools will be arriving in October when I will expect you to extend every courtesy to our visitors. However, for now you need to go to your dormitories so you are rested and ready to start your lessons tomorrow.” The Great Hall emptied quickly with a lot of excited chatter as the students eagerly exchanged information about what they knew of the Triwizard Tournament and speculation as to who would be entering.


	5. Walking to Chambers

Azalea stood up, at a loss as to what she was meant to do now. Dumbledore noticed her indecision and called over an older student who was wearing a prefects badge and told her to show Azalea to a guest room. Azalea suddenly remembered that she needed to let her Aunt Lucy know why she would be late so she asked Dumbledore if there was a telephone she could use. 

“Indeed there is. There are occasions when our muggle students need to contact home urgently or their parents need to contact them so we have a muggle telephone here for that reason. Penny will show you where it is, I’m sure you’re familiar with how to use it.” He then told Azalea he would see her in the morning after breakfast. Bidding her goodnight he left the Great Hall in the company of the teachers she recalled were the heads of houses. 

The prefect introduced herself as Penelope Clearwater and led Azalea out of the Great Hall and to a door off the main corridor. She stood in front of the door and said “call me quick”, the door unlocked to reveal a small phone booth. The phone on the wall looked ancient, it seemed to be made of bakerlite and it had a dial, rather than push buttons. Azalea picked up the receiver, which was heavier than she had anticipated, putting it tentatively to her ear she was relieved to hear a normal dialling tone. She dialled Lucy’s phone number watching the dial return slowly to the original position after each number. Her aunt picked up the phone after a few rings. Azalea had already decided she would not give a truthful account of her day but said she’d been delayed in London, she might have a new job lined up but she wouldn’t know until the next day. Assuring Lucy that she was fine she promised to call her tomorrow and let her know what her plans would be.

After completing her phone call she asked Penny where the guest room was. “It’s on the second floor,” came the reply, “it’s not too far out of my way – I’m a prefect for Ravenclaw”. She led the way and Azalea tried to make a mental note of any landmarks so she could find her way back the next day. Penny stopped in front of a portrait of a young woman dressed in a fashion that Azalea recognised as early Victorian, with a large crinoline skirt and a lacy bodice. “This is Sophia,” said Penny, “you need to say the password and the door to your room is behind the portrait.” She then turned to portrait and to Azalea’s amazement spoke to the portrait to enquire what the password was. Azalea was flabbergasted when the young woman in the picture turned fully towards them and responded in a clear well-modulated voice, “The password is “Albert”.” She then looked at Azalea and said, “You are most welcome, it has been a considerable length of time since I had a guest.”

Azalea stood there with her mouth slightly open and stammered, “but you’re moving and talking, you’re just a picture.” 

Sophia regarded her impassively. “I see you are unfamiliar with wizard portraiture. I can assure you that it is normal for the portraits at Hogwarts to interact with the living. Our role is as custodians of sleeping quarters to ensure that only those who have permission to enter are able enter.”

“Please accept my apologies for my abruptness,” Azalea responded, “as you correctly surmised I am new here and had not seen, let alone spoken to, a wizard picture before.”

Penny was eager to return to her dormitory, so she asked Azalea if she could leave her now. Azalea agreed, thanked her for showing her the room and Penny walked away leaving Azalea in front of the portrait. “Password?” enquired Sophia.

“Erm, Albert,” stated Azalea and the portrait opened up like a door revealing a small entrance lobby. Azalea stepped in and the portrait closed behind her. The lobby was dimly lit and Azalea could just make out a door at the end, she opened it and beyond was a small sitting room, with a fire in the grate arranged in front of it were two comfortable looking armchairs with a small dark wood coffee table between them. This was a vast improvement on the room she had rented at Grimmauld Place. She could see that her rucksack and been delivered to the room as Dumbledore had promised. Two doors led off the sitting room, one to a bathroom and the other to a bedroom. Having slept for so long on the train she wasn’t particularly tired but as there was not much else to do she took a long shower and then sat on one of the armchairs reading her book and thinking about her most unexpected day until the fire died down and she felt tired enough to sleep.

Severus Snape left the Great Hall feeling very irritated. As he made his way down towards his living quarters in the dungeon of the castle his irritation started to turn to anger. 

Although the staff were told about the Triwizard tournament it had been delivered as a fait accompli and the staff could only make suggestions around the edges rather than question the principle of the idea itself. If re-instating the tournament was so important to foster good relations between the schools then why couldn’t one of the other schools have hosted it? There had been enough trouble at Hogwarts in last 3 years; firstly there was Quirrell and the search for the philosopher’s stone; then the Chamber of Secrets being opened and last year had seen the return of Snape’s childhood tormentors – Lupin and Black – not to mention the dementors being stationed at Hogwarts. And who was at the centre of these events? – The Potter boy – that’s who. He was just like his father, James, he not only looked like him but he demonstrated a complete disregard for rules. Snape wanted to hate Harry as much as he hated James but the boy had eyes like Lily’s and that alone was his one redeeming feature which made it easier for Snape to keep the promise which, in his darkest moments, he wished he’d never made. At least the Triwizard tournament was only for students aged over 17 so Potter should be able to keep out of trouble for one year.

Snape took the stairs down to the dungeons two at a time as his thoughts turned to Moody, with each step he imagined stamping on the man’s disfigured face and condemning him to oblivion. Once again Dumbledore had not given Snape the job as Defence Against the Dark Arts’ teacher. Dumbledore assured Snape in private that he had complete faith in him but wouldn’t demonstrate that trust by giving him the job he would really like to do and for which he eminently qualified. Instead, he was stuck again in the bowels of the earth teaching idiot students about a subject in which most of them had little interest let alone aptitude or talent. The Defence Against the Dark Arts class was the one that the students loved; the idea of being able to deal with dangerous spells held an allure for the students that brewing potions did not, although potion brewing would be of more use to them in everyday life than defending against dark spells. Potions were more likely to save lives than defending against the unforgivable curses that most of them would never encounter in a lifetime. 

When Snape reached the bottom step he continued at the same speed sweeping along the corridor with his robes flying out forcefully behind him in an imitation of the way he felt inside. He considered that in passing him over for the Defence Against the Dark Arts job Dumbledore had reinforced people’s perception of him as an unreformed death eater, surely giving him the job would be one small public act of trust that Dumbledore could show in him. Let’s face it, Dumbledore had hardly shown good judgement with the last three Defence Against the Dark Arts appointments he’d made. One had been harbouring what remained of Voldemort and it was a constant worry to Snape as to the current whereabouts of the Dark Lord. The second was a complete charlatan who was now at St Mungo’s hospital where he may never recover from one of his own memory charms backfiring on him. The third was a werewolf, he should never have been allowed through the doors of Hogwarts in the first place. Also he had forgotten to take the potion that Snape had spent hours making for him to keep the wolf at bay. What type of responsibility did that show? Now Dumbledore had appointed Mad-Eye Moody, a former auror, and obsessively paranoid about his own safety. The silence with which the students had greeted his arrival spoke volumes about the wisdom of the choice. 

Snape reached the door of his chambers, tersely spoke the password and went inside. The room was gloomy - the only time the sun reached inside was first thing in the morning. He remembered he had seen the dawn that morning when he’d awoken from the dream. He was tired after the long day and he decided he might as well go to bed, his anger having dissipated a little on the brisk walk to his quarters. The idea of starting classes again tomorrow didn’t make him wish for the next day to arrive any sooner. As he lay in bed staring at the ceiling he thought of the woman in muggle clothing at the high table. No one had introduced her but she had been conversing with Charity and Flitwick. He recalled that she had looked at him, really looked at him, none of that sliding away of the eyes that most people did when he returned their curious looks, as if by meeting his eye they would be infected with the taint that would be forever associated with him. She’d had nice hair, light brown and falling in gentle waves almost to her shoulders. He thought then of Lily as he often did, she was the yardstick by which he judged all other women and this one fell well short of Lily’s perfection. He wondered what the muggle woman was doing here at Hogwarts. He’d seen her talking to Dumbeldore at the end of the feast. No doubt Dumbledore had a plan for her and no doubt Dumbledore would let people know when, and if, it suited him.


	6. Back to School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Azalea and Snape meet for the first time. Dumbledore outlines his plans for Azalea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had my first Kudos or Kudosses (if that the plural!). I've never written a fanfiction before (which may be obvious!) so it's encouraging that people (other than me) like it. Thanks.

Azalea awoke in an unfamiliar bed but remembered straight away where she was. The bed she was sleeping in was a four poster bed with heavy drapes that she had not closed, not wanting to feel hemmed in. She could see they might be useful to shut out the early morning light or to keep out unwelcome draughts but neither of those was a concern at this time of the year. She looked around the room taking in the old fashioned dark wood wardrobe and dressing table. There was a mirror placed centrally on the dressing table and she could see the reflection of the floral pattern curtains in it which gave some colour to the otherwise rather bland decor. 

She got out of bed and went to her rucksack to choose some fresh clothes. When rummaging around in the rucksack she felt the wand she had put in there yesterday. Pulling it out, she examined it more closely. It was nothing like the black and white wands used by stage magicians on television shows. Instead, it was made of a honey coloured wood which still retained the slightly curved shape of the branch it must have been cut from. It was intricately carved with leaves and flowers in a spiral from bottom to top, she marvelled at the skill that had gone into the decoration. It reminded her of the scrimshaw work she had seen in museums where sailors on whaling ships had decorated tusks or bones in their spare time. She wondered whether the decoration on the wand had a magical purpose or if it was just to distinguish one wand from another. She pointed the wand at the rucksack and thought about the words Dumbledore had taught her yesterday – wingardium leviosa – as the words formed in her mind the rucksack lifted from the ground and she guided it onto the bed. Using the same technique she started to pull clothes out of the rucksack until she found the ones she wanted to wear. As she repacked the rucksack with the unneeded clothes, she thought she would have to learn a spell on how to tidy things away; now that would be really useful.

She looked at her watch and saw the time was 8:30 am. She had said she would see Dumbledore after breakfast and she had no idea what time breakfast was or where it was taken. She went into the sitting room on her way to the bathroom and noticed on the coffee table was a plate of croissants and some more pumpkin juice. She was concerned that someone had been into her room whilst she was sleeping and decided that if she was going to stay here then she would have to set some rules about who could and couldn’t come into her rooms. There was no point worrying unduly about that right now and the food was most welcome. She quickly ate and then went to bathroom to do her ablutions before getting dressed. She picked up the wand from where she had put it and left the guest quarters. 

She walked along the corridors trying to remember the way she had come last night in the hope of retracing her steps and being able to find Dumbledore’s office. After a while the corridors and steps started to look the same; she was sure she’d already seen this particular section two times already, and she realised that she had lost her bearings. In her wanderings she had not passed anyone and was surprised that the place seemed to be deserted considering the number of people in the Great Hall yesterday. She was now standing at the top of a short flight of stairs when she heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor below, running swiftly down the stairs she looked to the left and could see a man walking briskly away, his back towards her. She ran after him politely calling “Excuse me, excuse me,” at his retreating back. He either hadn’t heard or was deliberately ignoring her so she changed tactics. By now the frustration and helplessness she felt at being unable to find her way were boiling over so she came to a halt and shouted “STOP!” in a commanding voice close to anger. The man abruptly stopped and slowly turned to face her. She ran the few yards between them and as she closed the distance she recognised him as one of the staff she had seen at the meal last night. He was a man of medium height and slight build and he was looking at her with the same expression on his face that he might have had as if he just stepped in something unpleasant. She ignored that for now because she needed his assistance.

“Thank you for stopping,” she said “I seem to have lost my bearings and I wondered if you could direct me to the headmaster’s office please?” 

“Yes I could.” he replied succinctly. 

She waited for him to supply her with directions but he didn’t continue. She sighed and clarified, “Please would you direct me to the headmaster’s office.”

“Do I look like an information point?” he responded with a slight sneer on his lips.

“No, but I recognise you as a member of staff and unless you have only just started work here then there’s a good chance that your knowledge of the layout of this place is greater than mine. Are you going to help me or not?” Then she added, “I’m Azalea Bennett by the way and what is your name?”

“Professor Snape,” he replied with the emphasis on professor. “I will help you find your way because I have more important things to do than stand in corridors wasting my valuable time talking to complete strangers.” He then raised his wand, made a swift circular movement and muttered the words “via directo.” From the end of his wand an iridescent globe appeared and floated in the air at the height of Azalea’s waist. “Follow that,” he said curtly, “and it will lead you to the headmaster’s office.”

“It’s beautiful, better than a yellow brick road” said Azalea reaching out towards it.

“Don’t touch it!” he snapped and she quickly withdrew her hand. “If you touch it before you arrive at your destination it will vanish. Now go, I have work to do.”

Azalea took the summary dismissal without rancour, he had given her the means to find her way after all. “Thank you for your help, Professor Snape” she said as she walked away following the delicate bubble as it floated before her, “I expect I’ll see you around.”

Snape watched her walk away. He felt perturbed by the exchange. He had indeed heard her calling out when she came down the stairs and he had chosen to ignore her. However, when she had shouted “Stop!” he had been compelled to stop. It had been years since anyone had had the power to do that to him and he had trained his mind to prevent such intrusions. No muggle woman was going to change that, from now on he’d have to observe her carefully.

Azalea followed the slowly rotating globe as it floated down the corridor and she watched the reflection of the light from the windows form ever changing rainbows on its transparent surface. As she got closer to Dumbledore’s office she started to recognise the landmarks and eventually reached the gargoyle she’d seen yesterday. Correctly assuming she’d need a password and remembering what Dumbledore had said to the gargoyle yesterday she tried the words “sherbet lemons” and the gargoyle moved across to reveal the spiral staircase she’d travelled on the previous day. She was relieved that Dumbledore hadn’t yet changed the password and she followed the bubble onto the moving stairs. Once she reached the door to the headmaster’s office the bubble disappeared, its job done. 

She knocked on the door and heard Dumbledore invite her in. Upon entering he stood up from behind his desk and pointed towards a chair for her to sit on. “You found your way here easily I hope,” he said conversationally.  
“No, I did get lost but I met Professor Snape and he conjured up a bubble for me to follow,” she replied as she made her way to the chair.

“Ah a directionball, most ingenious and, of course, it saves having to spend time in conversation,” he observed. “Now, Miss Bennett what are we going to do with you? I think you would benefit from remaining at Hogwarts to learn about magic and the wizarding world.”

“Well,” said Azalea, who had been giving some considerable thought to her immediate future, “I am between jobs at the moment, so I have don’t have any commitments from that angle, but I do need to earn money. If I stay here, what would my role be and how would I pay my way?”

“I have been discussing your circumstances with some of my predecessor Hogwarts’ head teachers,” he said indicating in general the portraits on the wall, “and it would appear that there have been occasions where students arrived late at Hogwarts for their education, although” he added thoughtfully, “not yet as late as you. No matter, if we want something done it can be achieved.”

“Where’s there a will, there’s a way,” quoted Azalea softly.

“Quite so, quite so” responded Dumbledore.

“Do you often have conversations with these portraits?” she asked looking at the people in the pictures, some of who were now regarding her with undisguised interest.

“Oh yes,” he answered emphatically, “the past covers such a long time and it is easier to ask if anyone remembers events rather than having to plough through all the books on the subject. Unfortunately, the memory can be fallible and people prone to exaggeration, so I can’t rely totally on what they say.”

“In my world, there’s a view that history is written by the victors, so you can’t rely on books to tell the complete truth either. Anyway, what advice did you get about latecomers to Hogwarts?” she asked.

“We think that you need to understand and be able to use magic and the best way to do this is to go back into the classroom and join in with the lessons,” Dumbledore started but Azalea cut his words short.

“You mean you want me to sit with a load of 11 year olds and then work my way up the school? I’ll be in my late 30s by the time I finish, I don’t have 7 years to spend on learning at my age,” she protested hotly.

“Don’t interrupt,” he said sternly. “I agree that are too old to spend 7 years here so I‘m proposing that we fast track you through the school. You’ll have to do a lot of background reading and private study. I hope that sometimes the teachers will be able to give you individual lessons but they already have full timetables so I want you to go to lessons where possible, starting with the first year so you can learn the basics. I don’t know how long you will be a student here, may be two or three years but the speed with which you can move up depends on how much time you put into learning and, I suppose, your natural ability to do magic. If you show no promise in doing magic then we will erase your memory of Hogwarts and send you back to the muggle world.”

Azalea considered his proposal. When she was at university in the real world there had been a few mature students on her course, from what she remembered they had tended to stick together and the younger students, herself included, didn’t have much to do with them unless specifically working together on a task. Somehow her current situation seemed like poetic justice, except she’d be with children, at least at university everyone was an adult. Dumbledore’s comment about erasing her memory had not gone unnoticed and she suspected that if she didn’t take the opportunity presented to her then she’d find herself back in Stevenage with either no memory or false memories of the past two days. She had to admit to herself that she was curious about the world of magic and intrigued to know how much magic ability she had, she knew that she was going to stay but now the practicalities needed to be sorted out.

Dumbledore had been watching her consider his words and, being a keen observer of humans, he recognised when she had made her decision, his mouth formed into a small smile but he said nothing and waited for her to respond.

“OK,” she said, “supposing I do stay and learn, how will I pay my way both here and in the real – I mean - muggle world, money doesn’t grow on trees you know? Where will I stay? Where can I get books for the background reading? How will I know which classes to attend? Are the teachers happy with an adult being in their classes?”

“All those things can be resolved,” Dumbledore advised her. “Firstly, about paying your way at Hogwarts, one of the subjects which you won’t need to cover as a student is Muggle Studies, which is taught by Charity Burbage.”

“Oh yes, I met her yesterday,” Azalea informed him.

“Good,” he continued, “you can help her out with her classes from time to time. I’m sure it will give the students a good perspective to learn about muggle life from someone who’s been there.”

“Yes I can agree to that.” Azalea told him.

“Next, you will need basic text books for each subject. Usually students buy their own before they start the year. However, there are always some students, especially muggles, for whom the expense is too much, so we have spare copies of most text books which can be lent out to our poorer students. The same goes for the robes they are required to wear. You are not particularly tall for an adult so there are bound to be some robes which would fit you. Both the books and the robes are available at the library, speak to Madam Pince, the librarian. Hogwarts also has an extensive library for background reading, I anticipate that you will be spending a lot of time there.

“I won’t expect you to live in the dormitories with the students so you can live in the guest room you’re already in. You can take your meals either in the Great Hall or in your room as you prefer, but I would recommend eating with the rest of the school where possible so you can feel part of school life. I don’t propose to put you into one of the houses.”

Azalea was glad to hear that she wouldn’t be expected to join a house, especially given her views on the selection system. She recalled Charity saying Azalea’s concerns about the Sorting was something she should discuss with the headmaster but Azalea decided this wasn’t the best time to do it and it wouldn’t change anything for this year, so she kept silent on the subject for now.

Dumbledore continued to speak. “I’ll have a discussion with the teachers at our staff meeting later today to inform them that you’ll be attending classes and to sort out a timetable for you. I’m sure that some will be happier than others with the arrangements but in the circumstances it is necessary.” Azalea wished she could be a fly on the wall of that particular staff meeting and she had a shrewd idea that Professor Snape would be one of the less happy members of staff. “As to how you will pay your way in the muggle world, I’m afraid I can’t help, that’s your area of expertise,” concluded Dumbledore.

Azalea thought aloud on the last point. “Well, the rent from my lodgers and the money from my investments will just about the cover my costs in the muggle world. I can probably get some temporary work during school holidays if I get really short.” She turned to Dumbledore and said “Yes I’ll do it. I’ll take you up on the offer. Thank you so much for your help.”

“It’s my pleasure,” said Dumbledore. “I’ll make the arrangements and will let you have your timetable tomorrow. In the meantime, take this map of the school and get to know your way around a bit.” He handed her a parchment on which was drawn a floor plan of the school with the rooms labelled on it, other than the fact it was on parchment it looked like any other floor plan she had ever seen. 

She thanked him again and made to leave the room. “One more thing,” Dumbledore called, “the wand” and he pointed to the wand in her hand, “look after it well, it belonged to my sister and I would hate it to become damaged.”

Azalea was going to ask about his sister but something in the tone of his voice and the sad look in his eyes made her think twice, perhaps it was a story he wasn’t yet ready to tell her. “I’ll let you have it back as soon as I don’t need it anymore,” she promised. 

Upon leaving the Dumbledore’s office, the first place she went was to the telephone kiosk she had used the night before in order to let Lucy know that she wouldn’t be coming back. Again she didn’t give Lucy the entire truth but told her she had a job in Scotland but hoped to be home at Christmas. Once she’d finished re-assuring Lucy that everything was fine, Azalea decided that the library would be a good place to go in order to collect the text books and robes and to start work on her background reading so she set off to find it.


	7. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea's first day as a student - she has charms and potions classes.

The next morning Azalea found the timetable that had been arranged for her lying on the coffee table of the sitting room. The subjects she was expected to concentrate on were Charms, Transfiguration, Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts recommended subjects were Herbology, Astronomy and broomstick flying, optional subjects were Divination, Care of Magical Creatures and History of Magic. The lessons for the first few days were on the compulsory subjects starting with Charms with Professor Flitwick at 9:00 today. Later on in the week would be her first teaching session for Muggle Studies and she knew she would need to have an urgent talk with Charity Burbage to discuss the arrangements, with that in mind she decided to go the Great Hall for breakfast and try to find Charity so she could make an appointment with her to discuss lesson plans.

Azalea had collected her text books and robes the previous day from the library. Madam Pince had been very helpful and had given Azalea a huge stack of books to start off her studies. She had also given Azalea a tour of the library and shown her the location of the sections for the various topics which she would be studying. There were quite a few students in the library who Madam Prince told her were regulars and Azalea had no doubt that she would soon join their ranks. 

Azalea had less impressed with the robes. They were black all over, with none of the house colour trimmings or badges. Madam Pince told her that these appeared on the robes once the students had been Sorted, because Azalea wasn’t going to be in a house her robes would remain black. Azalea had noted with dismay that the robes were of the “one-size-fits-nobody” variety and were too wide and too long for her. The excess width she could deal with by using a belt around her waist but when she tried to hitch up the extra length it just slipped out and she tripped over the hem. Madam Pince suggested that the robes could be altered but they would have to be returned as given. That meant that Azalea couldn’t just simply cut off the extra length. She had fairly basic needlework skills but she did have some needles and thread in her rucksack so was able to take up the hem after a fashion. She wondered if there was a spell for needlework and, if so, it was one she’d need to learn soon.

Dressed in her overlarge robes and carrying the textbooks she thought she might need for the day, plus the floor plan, she was about to leave the room but as an afterthought went back for her wand. As she left her rooms she said to Sophia, “wish me luck.” 

Sophia responded “I remember my first day at Hogwarts, so my advice to you is that you mind your manners, speak when spoken to and respect the teachers.”

“Thank you Sophia, I’ll bear that in mind,” Azalea replied and set off for the Great Hall.

She had eaten in the Great Hall the previous evening and so was now passing familiar with the routine. Dumbledore had invited her to eat with the staff rather than the students, due to her rather unique circumstances. She made her way to the top table and saw that Professor Burbage was there along with several other members of staff. Azalea gave everyone a general greeting but went straight up to Professor Burbage. “Good morning Charity, I’ve been given my timetable and later on this week I’m due to help you in the Muggle Studies class. Do you have some time before then to go through what my duties will be and how I can help you?”

Charity smiled in reply, “of course I do. I have some free time tomorrow afternoon. Come to my office after lunch and we’ll talk about then.”

Azalea helped herself to breakfast whilst making small talk with the other people breakfasting. Presently, Charity said goodbye because she had to leave to get to lessons and she suggested that Azalea did the same.

Azalea checked the floor plan in order to find out how she could get to the first lesson and set off. As she walked she reflected that it had been years since she had undertaken any formal study and she hoped she would soon get back into the mind-set for learning. As she walked up the stairs, she was constantly catching her foot in the hem of her robes and she wished she had made it a bit shorter. Long clothes for everyday use were such a backward step in both fashion and convenience. No wonder women had stopped wearing them once they had been emancipated in the early 20th century. Why on earth did the wizard world seem so keen to wear them? Although she noted that both genders were equally inconvenienced by the impracticable garb.

She arrived at the first lesson and went into the classroom. It was already full of the first years who were looking as unsure of themselves as she was. Azalea found a seat towards the back of the class and presently Professor Flitwick arrived. He was diminutive in stature and had a pile of books to stand on so he could see over his desk. Azalea wondered why he didn’t just get a lower desk. However, his height did not stop him from gaining respect in the class and he had an easy and friendly manner with the students. He started the lesson explaining about charms which were spells that retained the nature of the object but could affect it in other ways. He demonstrated this by making an object levitate and then got the students to try it themselves using the “wingardium leviosa” incantation. Azalea had already used this spell but was surprised at how difficult some of the youngsters found it. Professor Flitwick explained the importance of correct pronunciation and emphasis on the various syllables. 

At the end of the lesson, Azalea thanked the professor for the introduction to the subject and asked if there were any charms that she could practice before the next lesson. He made some suggestions and said that if she made quick progress then she would soon be able to move up to the next class. As she was leaving she asked the Professor why he didn’t just get a lower desk rather than standing on the pile of books? He laughed and said he had thought about it but he wanted to feel taller than most of his students at least while he called the register. Azalea told him that being on the short side herself she had often told people that “things only grow until they are perfect and some of us don’t take as long as others.”

“I’ll remember that one,” he said as he left.

Azalea had enjoyed her first lesson. She didn’t yet know what a contrast the next one would be – potions.

Snape walked towards his classroom in the basement. The next session was the first one for the new intake of first years from Slytherin and Gryfindor, he expected it would be the usual mix of jumped-up-full-of-themselves pureblood Slytherins and the holier-than-thou Gryfindors, neither of whom knew the difference between monkswood and wolfbane. Well, he’d see how miserable he could make them all and push some information about potions into their thick heads at the same time. He could see them all lining up outside the classroom. He didn’t let them in before he arrived because he kept the potions ingredients in the classroom and he couldn’t yet trust them not to touch. As he approached he could see one person not in Slytherin or Gryfindor robes and he remembered that he had the muggle woman in his class that day.

His mind went back to the staff meeting the previous day when Dumbledore had informed the staff that he was going to fast track the muggle woman through the school to make up for lost time. As usual Snape had been the only one to speak up against the headmaster’s idea. “We know nothing about her,” he’d protested, “who she is, where’s she’s from, what she can do, why she’s here – nothing!” Dumbledore had merely replied in his serene manner. “Well then Severus, I shall leave it in your capable hands to find out.” Snape had been furious and he had noticed that the other members of staff were trying to hide their smiles. After that, the meeting had simply been about the practicalities of how the woman’s education would be managed. 

He opened the door of the classroom and let the students in. After he’d called the register he gave the class his usual first day speech in his sotto voce manner to make them listen. “You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses, ...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.” He regarded the class who remain silent and solemn, except for the muggle woman who was smiling. “Have I said something to amuse you Miss Bennett?” he drawled. 

“No,” she responded “I thought it was eloquent and evocative - until the end bit about dunderheads that spoiled the effect somewhat.”

His words had never been described as “eloquent and evocative” before but he was not going to react to flattery. Instead he snapped “You will call me Professor, do you understand? If you are in my class then you will address me in the correct manner regardless of your age.” He could see a look of annoyance cross her face and he thought she was about to argue back but then her gaze flicked over to her young classmates and she merely said “Yes Professor Snape” in neutral terms.

He set the class to work making a simple potion to cure boils. He put them into pairs arranged alphabetically so the muggle woman was paired with a Slytherin boy called Malcolm Baddock. Snape could see the boy was not pleased with being put with an adult but someone had to go with her. The woman then asked Snape if there was a spare cauldron she could borrow because she did not have one. He ill humouredly got her one from the cupboard and thrust it into her hands. The class worked quietly for a few minutes then he heard a chuckle from one pair. He rounded onto the unfortunate child and demanded “What’s so funny Baddock, would you care to share the joke?” 

The boy started to stammer a reply but was overridden by the muggle woman. “I’m afraid that was my fault Professor. I asked him if boils was a common complaint amongst wizards and then I was speculating as to who would be likely to get them and where on their body they might be afflicted.” 

She looked at him innocently and Snape was tempted to ask the names she had been speculating upon but was aware he could be walking into a trap which could make the situation worse. He stared at her and spoke in a cutting voice that could be heard all around the room. “Miss Bennett, do you think my class is a joke?”

“No Professor, but I could see no harm in raising the mood somewhat whilst we worked, after all laughter lightens the load.”

“Miss Bennett, from now on there will be no talk that does not relate only to the task in hand, do I make myself clear?” he said sharply.

“Yes Professor,” she replied demurely and then continued in a conversational tone. “Professor, the ingredients we are using in this potion include nettles, snake fangs, horned slugs and porcupine quills.”

“That’s correct,” he confirmed, slightly suspicious as to the point she was going to make.

“Are the animals farmed or do you use wild ones? If you’re just using their fangs, for example, then what happens to the rest of the animal?” she asked.

He had never really given much thought as to where the ingredients came from, the plants he knew were farmed, in fact, some were grown here at Hogwarts. So he gave a short reply, “That is irrelevant to the task in hand, now get on with your work.”

“I disagree,” she countered, “I think animal welfare is important. Surely you’d need to know about future supply especially if that supply might dry up if the animal becomes endangered, if nothing else it will affect the price but ultimately it could mean that you are unable to make some potions altogether.”

Snape noticed that some of the students nearby were listening to the exchange but trying to look as if they weren’t. He had to regain control of the situation so he snarled at Miss Bennett, “I need none of your muggle sentimentality about animals or your idiot’s guide to economics. You are here to learn about potions, if my methods offend you then you are welcome to leave my class this instant and not return.” She looked at him with a mutinous expression but once again held her tongue although he could see the effort it cost her and she returned to her cauldron to continue making the potion. At the end of the lesson he noticed that the potion she had made was faultless.


	8. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea looks back on the first few weeks of life at Hogwarts.

Azalea was sitting under a tree in the grounds of the castle enjoying the late summer sunshine. She looked upwards and watched the sunlight play through the maze of branches and leaves. It was a weekend and five weeks had gone by since she had arrived at Hogwarts. As she sat her thoughts turned to the classes she had attended and what she had learned so far. 

She’d given up with History of Magic after only one lesson. The teacher, who interestingly was a ghost, had just droned on and seemed to put the class to sleep. Azalea decided that when she wanted to know about magical history she would just get a book and read about it.

The Divination class wasn’t usually started until students reached their third year so Azalea had decided to defer that for a while and concentrate on other subjects which were more grounded in rationality, inasmuch as magic subjects could be rational. She was highly sceptical of fortune telling and predictions, although she did admit to herself that coming from a muggle background did leave you with a healthy dose of scepticism. 

She had been interested in the subject of Care of Magical Creatures and had noted that the teacher was Hagrid – the large man she’d seen on the day she had arrived. Unfortunately, his lesson revolved around one species which he called blast ended skrewts and he seemed to have no real idea on how to look after them. She had spent some time in the library trying to find out more about the creatures but could find no reference to them. She had concluded that they were either an, as yet, undiscovered species or some sort of cross-breed that Hagrid had been experimenting with. Given the blast ended skrewts’ tendency to kill each other, which was not a good evolutionary trait, she suspected the latter. Azalea liked Hagrid and often spoke to him, his enthusiasm for animals was undoubted, but she decided that this was another class she’d go back to at a later date.

She’d had a few lessons in broomstick flying and was now able to stay on and make a few circuits of the Hogwart’s grounds. She found that the robes she wore were an encumbrance, so at the second lesson she had worn her jeans and sweatshirt under her robes and had removed the robes to fly. At the next lesson she noted that several of the students did likewise. She wasn’t entirely comfortable about flying just on a stick of wood which made her feel vulnerable and exposed. The students seem to be more confident than she was and she put that down to the fearlessness of youth. On the plus side, a broomstick was quicker than walking but she’d drive a car over flying on a broomstick for most journeys. 

The other optional lessons were Astronomy and Herbology. To Azalea astronomy seemed like a close cousin to the muggle astrology which she had no time for in the muggle world, so rightly or wrongly, she decided not to pursue that subject either. The Herbology class was interesting and the uses to which the plants were put in potions and healing medicines were fascinating. Unfortunately, Azalea discovered she did not have green fingers with magical plants any more than she had with non-magical plants, so she caught up with the theory of plant care and uses in the library. To supplement her theoretical knowledge she would ask Professor Sprout to show her the plants in the greenhouses so she could recognise them as they grew. The Professor was always happy to do this and would provide Azalea with snippets of gardener’s tips that were not available in text books but had been learned through years’ of experience or handed down from gardener to gardener. Azalea enjoyed those times in the warmth of the greenhouses with the smell of the earth and aromas from the growing plants, sometimes she would slip in alone just to feel the closeness to the plants and to observe their unique beauty.

Azalea shifted her position under the tree and pulled out some of the books she had brought with her. She spent a lot of time in the library and had become one of the regulars as she had suspected she would. Another regular was a girl in the fourth year called Hermione Granger. Azalea soon learnt that Hermione was incredibly knowledgeable about most subjects and was familiar with the layout of the library. Hermione had pointed Azalea to many useful books which she otherwise wouldn’t have discovered. Azalea had been introduced to the plight of the house elf by Hermione and she remembered Charity explaining on her first day that the house elves were like domestic servants. Azalea bought one of Hermione’s campaign badges as a mark of solidarity, although she had yet to meet a house elf. Picking up the books she had just pulled towards herself, one for each of the main subjects – Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions – her thoughts turned to her progress in each of these.

The first Charms lesson had been a good indication of the subject and teacher. As Professor Flitwick had suggested Azalea had done a lot of background reading and practising of the charms and was now attending classes with the third years. 

At the first Transfiguration lesson the teacher, Professor McGonagall had said to the class “Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.” Despite that warning the Professor did not consider asking awkward questions to be “messing about” and would try to respond to Azalea’s questions; the first one of which was “what is transfiguration?” Professor McGonagall had explained that it was the art of changing things from one thing to another and demonstrated by changing her desk into a pig and back into a desk again. Azalea had asked if it was a real pig and should wizards create life only to destroy it as easily by changing a pig into a desk? It seemed that, like Professor Snape with her question about using animal parts as potion ingredients, Professor McGonagall had never given any thought to that question but agreed that it was worthy of consideration. Azalea harboured concerns about this form of magic where it involved living things but nevertheless she demonstrated a skill at transfiguration that soon saw her moving up to the classes with the older students.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts Classes with Mad-Eye Moody had been educational to say the least. Azalea still saw him as being fuzzy round the edges but had got used to it by now and never thought to mention it to anyone, assuming it must be something to do with his injuries. Azalea had been told that Professor Moody was only on a one year contract and was specifically brought in to teach defence against curses so she attended class for older children in this subject. Most adult wizards would think twice before cursing a child and given that she was an adult Dumbledore thought she should learn how to defend herself, Moody was one of the best people at defensive strategies that Dumbledore knew. Professor Moody had started off the class by demonstrating the Unforgivable Curses – these were the three curses that were punishable by wizard law. The first, the Imperius Curse would take away the will of the subject and force them to act as the curse maker would have them act. The second was the Cruciatus curse which was the torture curse and inflicted any pain the curse maker could think of. Finally there was the Killing curse for which there was no known counter curse. Up until then Azalea had somehow that thought that wizards would use their power for good but this had been real eye-opener and she knew she would have to re-evaluate her assumptions.

Once thing was clear, there was more to magic than waving a wand and saying Abracadabra, in fact she was beginning to think that a wand wasn’t really necessary. She had noticed that she could “see” the magic as it worked. It appeared out of the wands like a colourful rainbow or aura. The colours and intensity varied depending upon the spell being performed; she supposed that there must be an almost infinite combination of colours and intensities, each one being unique to a particular spell. The Killing curse had been a matt black that seemed to suck out the light. She had theorised to herself that the speaking, or indeed the thinking, of the incantation that went with the spells generated the correct combination of colour and intensity of magic to do the spell. Now she knew that there really was a colour of magic. The wand appeared to act as a conduit for the magic and in the privacy of her own room she had practised each spell she learnt without the use of a wand and it became easier the more she did it. 

Azalea moved position again, this time to lie on her front. Autumn was imminent but for now the leaves were stubbornly clinging to the trees and the ground was still quite dry and free of decaying leaf litter. She reached out and pulled the pile of books closer and leafing through them, she took out the text book for muggle studies. During her first meeting with Charity Burbage to discuss the curriculum for the subject, Charity had given her the standard textbook on how muggles lived. Azalea had laughed at how dated the book was. "Muggles haven't lived like this for years!" she'd exclaimed. "Where are the microwave ovens, dishwashers, colour televisions, videos, CD players? This looks like a house from the 1950s and the clothes - what a mishmash of styles. Look at the transport - we've got Concorde, hatchback cars, Intercity 125 trains - we don't get around in charabancs and horse drawn carts. Charity - seriously - when was the last time you visited the muggle world?"

Charity blushed, "Well it has been a while I'll admit. I know the books are dated but it's hard to find modern textbooks on muggle studies. Most wizards still patronise muggles on the one hand and fear them on the other. That's why I was delighted when Dumbledore suggested you'd help out because you can give them an up to date account of what muggle life is like."

"What about the muggle students?" Azalea questioned, "Don't they help keep you up to date?"

"Most of them don't attend my class," Charity replied. "Why would they need to? To be honest neither do most of the purebloods - they see muggles as an inferior species worthy only of contempt. There are still a lot of wizards out there who have sympathy with You Know Who's views."

Since that conversation Azalea had found out a lot more about Voldemort and the Death Eater cult and thought it ironic that the greatest opponent of muggles was himself born of a wizard and a muggle. She could see many parallels between his views and some aspects of human history - such as the holocaust. She had made the Second World War the subject of one of the muggle studies lesson in the hope that the message would get through to a few students. Other subjects she had covered were modes of transport, labour saving devices, sports and entertainment. She had even given an exercise class which had proved so popular she had another one lined up soon. She grinned to herself as she recalled the reaction of a certain potions teacher when he'd seen her dressed in her exercise clothes of a tight fitting leotard and lycra shorts.

Azalea shifted position again and her eye caught a movement. She sat up and peered under the lowest branch. She saw a figure walking purposefully along a path in the Forbidden Forest and shading her eyes from the sun she saw it was Professor Snape. Azalea hadn’t yet ventured into the forest, not because it was forbidden but because she hadn’t really had the opportunity to do so. She reasoned that as she wasn’t a student then she would be permitted to go into the forest. On impulse she decided to follow him. She picked up her books and set off. As she walked she considered the way the potions lessons had gone so far.

After the first lesson she decided she would try to keep her head down in the next one and not draw attention to herself. Instead she got on with the assigned task and observed how Snape interacted with the other students. His attitude to them was almost hostile. He was very strict and a disciplinarian. He had clear favourites and they were all from his house, Slytherin. He would deduct points from the other houses for slight incidents when Slytherin students would get away with doing the same thing. She couldn’t deny that he was very knowledgeable about his subject and he did get results from the students. She would hear him make a sarcastic comment to a student about a mistake made but while criticising he was also supplying them with the way to do it correctly. “What do you call that mess? I suppose you put in the cockroach before the saltpetre, idiot boy – read the instructions. You can read can’t you?” After a few lessons she noticed that whilst he was sweeping round the room offering his caustic advice he was also watching out for potions overflowing, cauldrons overheating and students being careless when slicing the ingredients. It had then occurred to her that the potions class was potentially dangerous, like a chemistry or cookery class in the muggle world, so he had to be aware of everything going on, no wonder he had no tolerance of people mucking about. It was after that realisation that she thought that she may have misjudged him. 

She’d had some conversations with staff members who had filled her in about Snape’s personal history. Following these conversations Azalea had noticed that Snape rarely engaged in a casual conversation. He would respond to specific questions and give his opinions on matters pertaining to work. Some people were reluctant to talk about themselves and she could understand his wanting to keep his personal life to himself. However, being a sociable person herself she found it harder to understand how he could have spent so much time without these casual exchanges of information and friendly banter. At dinner she would often find herself the centre of social activity with the other members of staff and the laughter and conversation would sometimes get so raucous that the students would look up to see what was so funny. She had a particular rapport with Filius, they shared the same sense of humour and would often be creased up over stories and jokes that they told each other. Try as she might, Azalea had never yet managed to get a seat next to Snape so she could include him in the conversation and see if she could draw out his sense of fun, she was sure he had one.

With that thought in mind she entered the forest and walked along the path going in the direction she had last seen him. Whilst walking she pondered upon her motivation for seeking him out. She attended far more potions classes than any other single subject and had justified it to herself that she needed access to the ingredients in order to learn about the subject. The other subjects she could read about and practice the techniques by herself, saving up the questions for the next lesson. But she knew that wasn’t the full truth, for some reason she found herself attracted to the potions teacher in a way that she had experienced with only one other man. Snape wasn’t the most handsome man she’d ever known, not by any stretch of the imagination, but somehow his features pleased her, she liked his deep dark eyes, how his pale skin contrasted with his jet black hair and even his slightly crooked teeth. She had noticed that his emotions were rarely reflected in his facial expressions so it was hard to tell what he was thinking and she no idea if he found her attractive. She instinctively felt that he was not a man whose feelings were to be trifled with and if she wanted to get to know him better she should be sure that her own reasons were sincere.

She was lost in her thoughts and walking along a well defined path, because she didn’t want to get lost on the return journey, when she heard the swishing of large leather wings and looked up. She could see three of the thestral creatures she’d seen on the first day when they were pulling the carriages up to the castle. One of them appeared to be carrying a dead sheep and she saw them angle down swiftly towards the ground to land in a clearing a short way off the main path. She changed direction to follow them and as she approached the clearing she saw Professor Snape standing motionless watching the first thestral land with its load. He had his back to her, she paused and observed him, she admired the way he held himself, his slim body poised and always under control, a stray thought entered her mind on what he would look like in a pair of Speedos but she quickly banished that errant thought and concentrated on the thestrals. She made her way to the clearing treading quietly, so as not to disturb the creatures, and stood beside him.


	9. A Walk in the Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a chapter from Snape's point of view as he thinks about his newest student.

Severus Snape finished marking the pile of homework he had in front of him and pushed it to the side of his desk. He knew that he marked the students’ work hard, not giving the benefit of the doubt where another teacher might, but he was not partisan when grading work. If a Slytherin’s work was poor then it got P or a D. He would also give an E to work deserving of it regardless of who had done it. He rarely gave an O and today was no exception, the usual mix of mediocre marks. The majority of the papers were A or P grades today. He considered that he would do the students no favours by grading them leniently, once they left school they’d get precious little help so they might as well learn that particular lesson early. A gentle breeze blew in through the open window and scattered the pile of papers over the desk. He gathered them up and then took a paperweight, shaped like a serpent about to strike, from his desk to weigh them down. He noticed that the work now at the top of the pile was a piece of work from the muggle woman, Miss Bennett. He’d graded the work A, it may have been deserving of an E, but her penmanship was very poor and he found it difficult to read at times. Every time he handed back her work he would comment about the standard of her handwriting. “I see you’ve let a spider roam over your work again, Miss Bennett. Improvement is required.” One time she had replied with what he supposed what meant to be a joke, “Luckily I’m ambidextrous, I can write just as badly with either hand.” He hadn’t risen to the humour and had responded “Then you have twice as much to improve.” 

He looked out of the window and saw that it was a sunny day for the time of year. He’d spent enough time in his office today and it was a Saturday. He decided it would be a good day to go the forest and forage for fungi. It was the best time of year to gather it, whilst the weather was damp and still relatively warm. He picked up a bag and some boxes to put the plants in and set off towards the forest. As he crossed the castle grounds he could see the students in their little cliques making the most of the good weather and idling the afternoon away. Some of them would be better spending their time studying.

He left the grounds and entered the forest along a path which was signposted “entry forbidden to students”. The tree cover was quite sparse to start with but the further along path he went the more closely the trees grew. The sun shining through the mosaic of leaves in the trees formed a dappled pattern of light and shadow on the ground ahead of him. The gentle whisper of the breeze in the trees tops and an occasional rustling from small unseen animals scurrying through the undergrowth, were the only sounds he could hear. He often went into the forest to forage so knew his way around parts of it and before long he arrived at the location he had been heading towards. It was a small clearing where many years before the trees had been uprooted, by what cause he didn’t know, but now the fallen trees, leaf litter and low growing new vegetation made it a good habitat for fungi. He started his search and was soon engrossed in his task. Delicately veined chanderelles; round puffballs, some of which were ready to burst so had to be handled gently, and a turkey tail fungus soon found their way into the boxes he had brought with him. He noticed some innocent looking brown cap mushrooms which he knew was the poisonous death cap and would not be so innocent if eaten, he identified a bright red mushroom proudly proclaiming its poisonous nature as a fly agaric and both of these went into the boxes too. He then became aware of a smell like rotting meat, following the odour he located a pale cream fungi with a brownish cap from which the smell came. This was the stinkhorn fungi, it used the smell of rotting meat to attract flies which then walked over the cap and carried away the plant’s spores. This too was added to his collection.

As he harvested the fungi he made sure to leave some so that they could spore and new plants would grow. As he did this his thoughts turned to Miss Bennett and her concern for the manner in which animal parts were used in potion making. After that first lesson he had reluctantly thought she made a good point about using snake fangs in a beginner’s potion. Snakes had only two fangs but a body full of scales so he had then experimented with substituting snake scales for fangs and with a few modifications had succeeded in brewing an effective potion. 

His mind then turned to another occasion concerning Miss Bennett. He had been working in his office when he heard voices coming from a nearby empty classroom which was rarely used. He stopped work and left his office to investigate. As he approached the class room he could hear Miss Bennett talking to a class of students. Since when had muggle studies taken place in the dungeon?

“Good afternoon class I’m pleased to see so many of you have turned up to experience a muggle style exercise session. With the lack of Quidditch this term I’m sure some of you are noticing the lack of physical exertion in your lives. For the less sporty of you, who are glad there is no Quidditch, then here is another way to get those muscles toned up and your stamina increased, without the risk of falling off a broom stick!” Here there was a scattering of laughter. “We are going to do some circuit training. I’ve set some different exercises at points around the classroom and you’ll break into groups of about 5 or 6 then do the exercise shown at one point before moving onto the next. First we all have to have to warm up so follow what I do.” There was then a click and the sound of muggle music came from the classroom along with Miss Bennett shouting instructions. “Step left, step right, roll your shoulders, walk forwards, now walk back”. After a while the beat of the music increased and he heard her say, “Girls - you’ll like this song - it’s called “Holding out for a Hero” and we’re all holding out for one of those, aren’t we? Lucky for the boys that most of us will settle for less! Now let’s move it!” 

He had remained out of view of the class room door and listened to the words of the song;

“Where have all the good men gone  
And where are all the gods?  
Where's the street-wise Hercules  
To fight the rising odds?  
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?  
Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need

I need a hero  
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night  
He's gotta be strong  
And he's gotta be fast  
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight  
I need a hero  
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light  
He's gotta be sure  
And it's gotta be soon  
And he's gotta be larger than life”

She was right there weren’t many heroes in real life and he wasn’t the stuff that heroes were made from. He returned to his office but could still hear faint strains of the music through the door of his office. After about twenty minutes he noticed that the music was now slowing down and sounding strangled. He approached the classroom again and heard Miss Bennett saying, “It looks like the batteries on my tape player are running down. I don’t suppose any of you know a spell to recharge batteries do you?” There was a general murmur of “no, we don’t.” Then her voice came again “Hang on, I can see someone who might, you carry on at your circuit stations doing the exercise without music and I’ll be back in a minute.”

He had started to hasten away from the classroom when he heard the door open and her voice called “Professor Snape.” He stopped and heard her running up towards him. He turned round slowly and then froze when he saw how she was attired. She was wearing a muggle outfit the type of which he had never seen before, a close fitting top which showed off every contour of her lithe body and short trousers hugging her shapely legs. He couldn’t help but notice her breasts moving gently up and down as she caught her breath after the exertion of the exercise class and the short run down the corridor. If she noticed his reaction she made no comment but just asked “Do you know any spells for recharging batteries? I know that wizards don’t use them but my cassette player won’t work without them and, as you can see, I’m in the middle of a class. They are rechargeable batteries so they are designed to be recharged.”

She held out a battery to him and he took it from her. He thought it would be possible to do as she requested so he held his wand over it and said “reluminate” which was the same incantation he used when the lights went out in his rooms. It seemed to have had some effect because he felt the battery go warmer in his hand. She held out the next battery. “Could you do it again please so I can see what you’re doing and can do it myself next time?” He repeated the spell. She still had two more batteries in her hand but then to his surprise she simply held them in one hand and passed her other hand over them saying “reluminate”. 

“Oh, I think that worked” she said, “I felt them go warm. Did they go warm when you did it?”

He nodded in reply.

“I’ll find out in a minute when I put them back in the tape player. Thanks for your help. We’re not making too much noise and disturbing you are we?” she asked.

He wanted to make a cutting reply but seeing her dressed as she was had almost made him lose the power of speech so he shook his head. 

“Good, let me know if we are and I’ll turn it down.” She held out her hand for the two batteries he was still holding. As he handed them over his fingers touched her hand and he felt as if a shock of electricity had passed between them which was nothing to do with the batteries. “Thanks” she said and ran back to the classroom. He walked slowly back to his office his fingers burning as if he had touched fire.

 

He decided that he collected enough fungi for now and would come back for more in a couple of days after he’d prepared the ones he’d just collected for storage. He took a different route back. It was a nice day and he no particular need to be anywhere. Dinner wasn’t for a couple of hours so he would have time to drop off the plants at his office beforehand. His presence at mealtimes was required by Dumbeldore and was practically a condition of his employment. It had been a turgid experience for him for most of his time at Hogwarts but these days he almost looked forward to the communal mealtime and he knew that it was because of Azalea. She had an easy interaction with people at meal times and he would often hear cheerful voices coming from her those sitting near her, sometimes Flitwick and she would be in fits of laughter over some amusing anecdote that one of them had told, or some innuendo over the shape of vegetables. The places next to her at the dinner table were always the first to go and as he was the last to arrive he never sat next to her. Many years ago he had once overheard someone saying he sucked away a convivial atmosphere the way a deluminator took away the light and he didn’t want to find out if it were true.

He slowed down his walking pace and watched the way the sunlight was flickering through the leaves, some of which were changing into their autumn colours, fiery reds, burnt orange and green touched with gold. Another memory of Azalea came unbidden to his mind. In one of his classes she had asked a question in her usual ignorant muggle manner. “Professor, why do you need to cut up the potion ingredients in a particular way, and then follow precise steps, stirring this way and that for a set number of turns when there’s a much quicker way?”

“A quicker way, Miss Bennett? Might I remind you that greater minds than yours have spent years working out the correct proportions for the ingredients, the proper way to cut them up and then how to blend them to ensure that they brew to perfection. Potion making is not like one of your muggle pot-messes where everything is thrown together and is called a “mess” for a good reason.”

“As a matter of fact a pot mess is an excellent way to use up food and to make a little go a long way.” she immediately retorted, “but what I meant by a quicker way is that I’ve noticed that if you just make sure you’ve got the correct ingredients and proportions, like these I have prepared earlier,” the last phrase was spoken with an inflection he didn’t understand, “then you put them all in the cauldron, like so, and pass the wand over them saying the incantation for the potion, in this case "motus agitata", at the same time visualising the end result. Right, now look in the pot.” He had winced at her use of the word pot but looked in the cauldron. To his complete astonishment the cauldron no longer held a pot mess of ingredients but a finished potion looking exactly as it should. “See” she said looking straight into his eyes, “much quicker.” For once he was lost for words and as he stared back at her he noticed that her eyes were green and flecked with gold, how had he never seen that before.

He recovered himself and said “I see you’ve picked up a few parlour tricks. I’ll need to test it and see what you’ve done.” He took away the cauldron so she couldn’t do any more work with it. When he tested the potion she had made, it was perfect. He was astounded. There were legends about wizards who could make potions with a wave of their wands but he’d never thought there was any basis in fact. Certain she had tricked him in some way he would watch her carefully and work out how she did it. 

His route through the forest had now led him to another clearing, this one was circular in shape with the trees pushed out to the side leaving a grassy meadow in the centre. He paused to stand in the sunshine which was welcome after the slight chill from walking in the shadows of the trees. He was aware that Azalea had been on mind a lot recently and he wanted to understand why. She wasn’t as beautiful as Lily had been, but had the same joie de vivre that Lily had had when they were children, something Lily had lost in the last years of her life and for which Snape felt wracked with guilt over his contribution. When Azalea was near him he felt profoundly uncomfortable but when she wasn’t in his lessons or had not come to dinner he felt a deep disappointment at not seeing her. He would catch himself looking out for her when he walked down the corridors or in the grounds and if he did happen to see her he said nothing to her just walked past as if she was beneath his notice. He attributed this behaviour to the fact that she was the only person he had spent any time with for years who was close to his own age, but sometimes he felt older than Nicolas Flamel.

He was about to resume his walk when his eye was caught by a movement in the sky. Looking up he saw a thestral, clutching a sheep carcass in its mouth, manoeuvring to land in the clearing, its skeletal frame belying the strength within its body. Whether the thestral had killed the sheep itself or if Hagrid had left out food for the animals, he didn’t know. Whatever Snape’s personal view of Hagrid he knew the man would always look out for the welfare of the animals within his charge. A swish of wings announced the arrival of a second thestral which was accompanied by a foal. The first thestral had now deposited the sheep’s body on the grass close to the tree line and all three animals started to tear into it.

He heard a soft step behind him and felt someone stand by his side. He glanced over and saw Azalea had come to join him. He was awash with confusion, something that happened whenever he unexpectedly met her and he had not had time to compose himself. She was staring intently at the thestrals and spoke in a low voice as if she did not want to scare away the animals. “They have an eerie kind of beauty don’t you think?”

He thought she had a strange idea of beauty, to him they were hideous. It was rare for him to see beauty in many things any more except his potions. He admired the exactness of the recipes, the precision of the cutting of the ingredients, the order in which things had to go in the cauldron, the time ticking past as the mixture came to a boil and the final perfect result, the way order could be made from chaos. He turned his head slightly so she was in his line of vision and watched her watching the thestrals, and he tried to see them as she might, seeing so many new things for the first time, her childlike wonder at the fresh experiences the wizard world was presenting to her on a daily basis, far removed from her muggle existence. He noticed the grace with which the thestrals moved; their wings held elegantly against their backs and how they always kept an eye on the foal; the colouring of their bodies blending in with the dappled shadows under the trees. He answered her question in a softer voice than he normally used. “I suppose so,” he agreed then added, “who did you see die?”

She looked at him quizzically, “How do you know if I’ve seen someone die?” she asked sharply.

“Only people who have witnessed death can see thestrals.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” She paused as if remembering something sad then said, “My mother. I was with her when she died.” Then she added “and what deaths have you witnessed?”

He didn’t reply at once and they both continued to watch the thestrals attacking the carcass. The adults standing protectively near their foal keeping an eye on the humans and ready to intervene should there be any threat to their foal. Snape wondered how he should to answer her question, she must know he was a Death Eater – that was all everybody did know and how they judged him, so he replied in a bitter tone, “Ask anyone, they’ll be only too pleased to tell you what Death Eaters did and what they saw.”

“But I’m asking you, I’d like it straight from the horse’s mouth. Or” she half smiled and indicated the animals before them, “the thestral’s mouth.”

“I’ve witnessed more deaths than I care to remember,” he succinctly supplied a response.

“Were any of them by your own hand?” He fixed her with a hard, cold stare and gave no answer. “Sorry, it’s none of my business,” she apologised. “When at war it must be a case of kill or be killed and I suppose no one really knows what they’ll do in that situation.”

He envied her naivety but he knew she was wrong. Some people know exactly what they will do. They will kill and kill again, for the thrill of the chase, the exhilaration of the kill, for the feeling of power it gave over someone else’s life. He’d seen it many times and he sincerely hoped that she never would. Was he like that? Had he ever killed just for the fun of it? He believed not. He’d never dealt the killing blow himself but he was far from blameless in causing people’s deaths – Lily’s most of all. The thought of Lily turned his now dour mood to black and he turned abruptly and walked from the clearing leaving Azalea still looking at the thestrals who had by now demolished the sheep and were sniffing around eating the pieces that had spread around the clearing until only the skin and bones were left.

He strode away half hoping she would follow and help lift his mood but she made no move and he was left alone with his thoughts of Lily and the wrong he had done her.


	10. A Change of Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea's planning a trip to Hogsmeade

The following Saturday Azalea took from her wardrobe the warmest clothes she had with her upon her unplanned arrival at Hogwarts. When she had lived at Grimmauld Place it had been summer so she had packed mainly summer clothes, now the autumn was approaching they weren’t really suitable. She had no money to buy new ones or to travel back to her own house in Stevenage to collect the ones she already owned. She intended go back home for a few days at Christmas and would collect some more then, in the meantime she was going to have to layer them up to keep warm. She put on a pair of jeans, two T shirts and a sweatshirt. She then chose a thin summer jacket and a waterproof cagoule which was as least windproof. She decided against her wizard robes because they impeded her walking and today was going to be her first outing to the nearby village of Hogsmeade – the only village in the Britain that is solely occupied by wizards. She was looking forward to getting out of the confines of the castle and seeing somewhere different. 

Azalea bounced down the corridor towards Charity’s office. She knocked on the door and poked her head round the door frame when she heard the invitation to enter. “Are you ready to go yet?” she asked as she went in. Charity was sitting by the fire with her left leg resting on a stool and a bandage around her ankle. “Oh, Charity what’s happened?” Azalea asked in a concerned voice.

“I needed something from the top shelf over there.” The older women indicated a tall cupboard which was full of muggle artefacts that she used in her lessons, items such as children’s toys, books, household gadgets, workman’s tools, beautifully decorated ceramics and a pile of neatly folded clothes. “I couldn’t quite reach it so I stood on the chair but then, stupidly, stepped backwards forgetting I was on the chair and landed awkwardly and twisted my ankle.”

“Why didn’t you use magic to get it down?” asked Azalea, “or you could levitate so you could reach it – that’s a fun thing to do.”

“Sometimes I like to try to do things the way a muggle would, it helps me to understand the way they live.” She then realised the rest of what Azalea had said and asked, “Can you levitate then?”

“Oh yes. Look.” Azalea then rose from the ground, without apparently using her wand, and hovered by the cupboard inspecting the top shelf. “It’s a bit dusty up here. Did you get what you wanted or shall I get it down for you?”

“I was looking for a bowl shaped item with holes all around it.”

“Oh yes, here it is. That’s a colander, you use it to drain vegetables after cooking. ” Azalea attention was caught by something else at the back of the shelf and she picked it up with a laugh, “I hope you don’t show this to your classes.”

“Oh I’ve had that for years, one of my older students gave it to me when he left but I’ve never been able to work out what it is. Do you know what it’s for?” Charity asked innocently.

“I think your student must have been having a joke at your expense, this is sex toy,” Azalea replied trying to keep a straight face.

Charity said, “Well that explains a lot. The student concerned never liked muggle studies so I was rather surprised when he gave me a gift.” She then blushed bright red as another thought occurred to her and then she carried on, “do you think he was inferring that I was sex-starved old bat?”

“Who can tell what goes through the mind of an 18 year school old boy?” Azalea replied. To try to offer some consolation she added, “It’s possible he didn’t know what it was either.”

Charity snorted, “Knowing the boy concerned I think that is unlikely. Fortunately I haven’t taken into my class and now I shall get rid of it.”

Azalea drifted back down the ground and handed Charity the colander. “How’s the ankle anyway?”

“I’ve been to see Madam Pomfrey she’s given me a salve, said to rest it for a day or two and it should be all right by Monday.” She then became aware that Azalea was wearing an outdoor coat and remembered about the outing they had arranged. “Oh no, I’m sorry that means that I won’t be able to go with you to Hogsmeade today, we can go another day, although next weekend is when the students go, I usually try to avoid that time.” The door of the office was still open and they could hear footsteps coming down the corridor. Charity glanced out at the person walking past and she called out “Severus, would you come in here for a moment please?”

The footsteps stopped and he entered the office carrying a pile of books. Seeing Charity incapacitated and thinking she might require some help, he politely asked, “What I can do for you, Charity?” Azalea was still holding the sex toy and when he came into the office she quickly shoved it behind her back hoping he hadn’t seen it, and if he had, that he had no idea what it was for either. 

Charity looked up at him and said, “I promised Azalea that I’d accompany her to Hogsmeade today, she hasn’t been there yet, but as you can see I won’t now be able to go. You mentioned yesterday that you were going there today to get some potion supplies, so would you go with her please?”

Snape looked across at Azalea, who was slowly sidling away holding something behind her back and trying, without much success, to put it somewhere in an unobtrusive way. She stopped when she saw him facing her and said, “I’d appreciate it if you would. You only have to walk with me to the village, you can do your own thing once we get there, and I expect I’ll be able to find my own way back.”

His immediate thought was that he didn’t want to do it, Azalea made him feel uncomfortable in a way he didn’t understand, but he did need to purchase some supplies at Hogsmeade. Besides, he liked Charity, even if she did teach a pointless subject like Muggle Studies, she had never judged him as some others had. Now he thought about it, perhaps it was her knowledge of the barbarity of the muggle world that gave her a more sympathetic view of the wizard world. He had already offered to help her it would be churlish to refuse, so he replied in a sardonic imitation of Azalea’s comment, “On the proviso that I can “do my own thing” once we are at Hogsmead I will show you the way.” 

“Thanks,” said Azalea, who had by now managed to put whatever it was she had been holding in a drawer of the desk, “let’s go now.”

“I shall have to return these books to my office and collect my coat before we can depart,” he said.

Azalea interpreted this as an excuse for him to try to avoid accompanying her. Believing he’d find something urgent to do once he got to his office, she felt she needed to strike whilst the iron was hot so said, “Can’t you summon your coat and send the books back – would that be called a banishing spell? It’ll save time diverting to the dungeons and we need to make the most of the weather while it’s still fine.”

He sighed and thought he might as well get the trip over with sooner rather than later. With a flick of his wand sent the books back and with another flick summoned his coat. Azalea, who had been watching him perform the spells, said, “That’s interesting, have you ever noticed that the colours of those spells are the other way around from each other? I suppose it’s because they’re effectively opposite spells. Is it like that for all spells which do opposite things?” Both Snape and Charity looked at her in confusion but before either had a chance to ask her what she meant, the sound of students shouting came welling up the corridor. Azalea and Snape both ran out the door to investigate the commotion leaving Charity sitting alone by the fire with the door still open and thinking that her friend Azalea was turning into a quite remarkable witch.

Azalea reached the source of the noise before Snape and immediately took in the situation. A crowd, mostly boys, were surrounding a pair of boys who had their wands out and were facing each other down ready to duel. The crowd were shouting “Fight! Fight! Fight!” and urging the combatants to commence throwing spells at each other. Azalea thrust her way to the centre of the disturbance and shouted “SILENCE!” in a commanding voice. Instantly the noise ceased as if it had been switched off. She turned to the two boys in the centre of the ring, and making a small throwing gesture with her right hand, quickly followed by the same gesture with her left hand, the wands flew out of the boys’ hands and landed a few feet away clattering on the stone floor. “What is going on here?” she demanded. No-one replied. She pointed at random to a boy in the crowd, “You - tell me what’s going on!” 

The boy she had indicated mumbled a reply, “Wyatt called Tanner and his sister mudbloods.” Azalea had no idea what a mudblood was but assumed by the fact it had led to blows it must be an extremely offensive term of abuse. 

She turned to Wyatt and Tanner saying sharply, “As you both seem to be so interested in mud then you will serve detention in the greenhouses assisting Professor Sprout, I believe she if re-potting the swamp plants this week. You know full well that fighting is not permitted in Hogwarts. You are privileged to be at such a fine school as this and you are here not only to learn the academic and practical sides of magic but also to learn tolerance of difference and to respect others, no matter their background.”

“Spoken like a true muggle,” came a drawling voice from the crowd accompanied by a slow handclap. She turned to see who had spoken and saw a boy with white blond hair, very pale skin and a pointed face. 

She was about to respond when the word “Malfoy!” came from the back of the crowd spat out like the crack of whip. The students parted as Snape stepped forward, his presence had gone unnoticed by most of the students who had been watching Azalea. The boy Malfoy looked at Snape with an expression of expectation on his face, like a dog which has just done a clever trick and was waiting to be rewarded. Snape glared at the boy and reprimanded him in a voice far from pleased. “You do not speak to a member of Hogwarts staff in that manner. You will join Wyatt and Tanner at detention in the greenhouses. Make sure you pay particular attention to the skunk cabbage.” Snape then turned to the remaining students and spoke in a curt voice, “Wyatt, Tanner pick up your wands before I confiscate them. As for the rest of you there is nothing more to see here so I want this corridor empty in ten seconds.” The students melted away before the ten seconds was up. Snape then turned to Azalea, “Come, we need to depart now in order to return before it gets dark.” She nodded and followed him out of the building.


	11. A Walk to Hogsmeade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea and Snape talk while they walk. Azalea's impressions of Hogsmeade.

You handled that well.” Snape remarked to Azalea, in a rare compliment, as they left the building.

She smiled and replied, “Yes. I was glad to see I hadn’t lost my touch. One of my many temporary jobs was youth work. I quickly had to learn how to show them who was boss. Thanks for sorting out that last boy, sometimes it’s easier to deal with the crowd than with one mouthy individual.” Without pausing, Azalea continued to speak asking the question that had been on her mind for the past few minutes, “Professor Snape, what’s a mudblood? I assume it’s a term of abuse but why was Tanner offended and why would Wyatt say it to him?”

Snape considered his next words. “A mudblood is a derogatory term given to wizards who are born to two non-magical parents. Tanner must be such a person. Wyatt is a pureblood, that is to say both his parents come from a line of wizards who can trace their ancestry back for generations. Then you have half bloods, those are the children of one wizard and one muggle parent.”

Azalea digested this information for a few minutes and then asked, “What about the children of a mudblood and a pureblood, or a mudblood and a half blood, what does that make them?”

“I am not aware of specific names for those combinations. However, only bigots are concerned about parentage and define people by their blood, to reasonable minded people the child of any pairing would be either a witch or a wizard.”

“O.K. but if the purebloods are acting so superior about their bloodline, as time goes on and they all continue to marry each other, after a while won’t they run out of people to marry that they aren’t related to? There have been times in muggle history where that happened – the ancient Egyptians and the royal houses of Europe, for example – the bloodline gets weaker, not stronger, so the purebloods are laying the foundations of their own extinction.”

Snape looked at her in admiration, trust a muggle to see it from that perspective. “As I said, it is only bigots who care about ancestry.”

Azalea returned his look and saw an expression on his face she’d never seen before, he was normally so impassive, and she commented, “I’ve heard it said – you can tell a bigot, but you can’t tell him much!” When he didn’t respond to her joke, she added “I hope you’re not a bigot because I’m sure I’d fit into the mudblood category.” 

“And I am a halfblood,” he supplied as if by definition that meant he was not a bigot. Snape was feeling ill at ease discussing mudbloods and bigots. Her joke had been too close to the truth for him to find amusement in it. He knew that it was his use of the word “mudblood” that had forever altered the relationship between him and Lily. With the distance of time, he could see now it wasn’t so much the word that was the real cause of their estrangement but his beliefs and his actions in joining the Death Eaters. He didn’t want to make the same mistake with Azalea and would never think of her as just a mudblood. 

They lapsed into silence and continued to walk towards the village. Azalea looked at the surrounding mountains, she could make out the snow covered tops of those in the distance reminding her that winter was around the corner. Further down the slopes were great swathes of dark green where the pine trees grew and lower down still were the meadows where she could just make out white dots of grazing sheep. Was that where the thestrals she’d seen last week in the forbidden forest has found their meal? Just off the path where she was walking she could see the short grass, which was cropped by rabbits, judging by the abundant evidence of droppings and rabbit bolt holes. She made a mental note not to walk off the path when the light failed, it would be too easy to trip down one of the holes in the semi-light. She supposed that the area must be covered in heather in the spring and summer, Scotland was famed for its heather and she would have to remember to see it at that time of year. 

Not wanting to pass the rest of the journey in silence, no matter how glorious the scenery, Azalea started a new conversation. “So, the name “Severus” is that a traditional wizard name, it’s not one I’ve ever come across in the muggle world?”

“Yes.” He replied curtly but gave no further explanation.

She realised she should have asked the question in another way to avoid a yes or no answer. In an attempt to keep a conversation going she continued on the subject of names. “In my family the girls are all named after flowers – my mother was called Ivy and her sister was Rose. My mother named me Azalea and my two cousins were Lily and Petunia. I swear that if I ever have children I’m not going to continue the flower theme, I’m going with something different like...” She paused because she noticed he had suddenly stopped and was staring at her intently. “Are you OK?” she asked.

“Yes, yes, I just stumbled. Tell me about your cousins.” He fell into step with her and walked by her side.

Azalea hadn’t thought about her cousins for years, the past was the past and she couldn’t change what had happened. She rarely spoke about it but Snape was showing interest in something for the first time and she didn’t want to lose the momentum, so she gave the brief summary. “Lily is dead and Petunia doesn’t speak to me anymore.” Now she’d stated the bare facts, something in her broke and she found she had a cathartic need to tell the story, so she continued to speak.

“Lily was about 3 years older than me and Petunia older than Lily. My mother and I used to visit them, or they’d come to us. I adored Lily, I would follow her around like a little puppy dog begging her to play with me. Petunia was dismissive of her annoying little cousin but Lily would tolerate me. When Lily was 11 she went off to boarding school and so I didn’t see her as often after that. She met someone there who she married shortly after leaving school, James, his name was. They were married quite young by muggle standards but they appeared happy enough. I must admit I thought he was a bit of a prat the first time Lily introduced him but he grew up very quickly after they started going out and I was fond enough of him at the end. Lily and James hadn’t been married long when they had a baby - Harry they called him, I was his godmother. He had a godfather too – one of James’s friends, who’s name escapes me. I only met him a few of times, at their wedding, the christening and a couple of social gatherings.” She took a breath and then carried on in a voice choking up with emotion. “When Harry was about one year old the whole family was killed in a car crash. Just like that. I’d only spoken to Lily a few days beforehand to make arrangements for me to see them when I got back from a trip I was about to go on. When the accident happened, I was abroad on a University trip and my mother had gone to France to visit friends, and no one could contact us, by the time I found out about the accident, their funeral had already taken place and their ashes scattered over the fields where Lily used to play.” 

She paused in her narrative, lost for a moment in her reverie and thinking of the cousins she had lost far too young. Severus stared at her but said nothing. Memories of Lily can unbidden to his head, thoughts he kept to himself and which he took out and examined at times when he felt he couldn’t carry on any more. Did the memory of Lily pain Azalea as much as it pained him? He looked intently at Azalea seeking a family resemblance to Lily. The eyes - she had the same eyes as Lily how had he never noticed before? His next thought was, “she is Lily’s cousin; she must be. But she is unaware that the Potter boy is still alive, she believes him to be dead. Should I tell her?” Before he had a chance to decide one way or the other, Azalea resumed her recollections.

“I went to see Petunia when I got back, I wanted to share my grief with someone who knew and loved Lily. Petunia was married by then with a young son of her own. She wouldn’t let me in the house. I stood at the door and shouted “Tunia, Tunia please speak to me, I need to talk to you, Tunia don’t shut me out!” Her husband came to the door; he’s a big man with a permanently angry face. I always thought Tunia could have done so much better than him. Anyway, he told me in no uncertain terms that his wife wanted no more to do with me - I was “one of them” and I was never to darken their door again. If they ever saw me they would call the police and charge me with harassment. I haven’t visited since. I tried writing to Tunia and sent Christmas and birthday cards but they were sent back, often unread. So I gave up trying to make contact, you can only take rejection so many times.

“A couple of years later, my mother died, so now for all intents and purposes I have no family left.” She stopped her narrative wondering what had prompted her to tell Severus Snape, of all people, so much about her past. Changing the subject she then asked him, “What about your family, do you have brothers and sisters?”

“No,” he replied, “and my parents are dead.” Maybe it was because she had confided in him about her past that he continued to speak, “We were dirt poor, my parents didn’t like each other very much and my father liked me even less.”

Azalea was taken aback that he had given her a tiny glimpse into his past life, “It’s not poverty that makes bad parents,” she said, “it’s bad people.” 

He glared at her and added clarification, “My father was a violent man and my mother was unable to defend herself or protect me, she wasn’t a bad person just very weak.”

“And you?” Azalea questioned, “Are you bad or weak?”

“Both. Neither.”

They walked a few more steps in silence then Azalea said, “So here we are now, orphans both, no family, no link to the past. It’s up to us to find our own way forward in life. As they say “today is the first day of the rest of your life” so we should make the most of today, shouldn’t we? So let’s step out and you can show me the delights of Hogsmeade.”

Glad that she had lightened the atmosphere with her last comment Snape said drily, “Delights is hardly the word I would use but you should form your own opinion.”

“I usually do,” she said as they increased their pace. Snape looked across at her still unsure whether to tell her about Potter. 

Now that Azalea had got him talking she continued to prattle on, mostly about the scenery, and he gave short answers. Weren’t the mountains spectacular? Yes. Was it covered with heather in spring? Yes. Was it easy to lose your way if you strayed off the path? Yes, especially if dark or foggy. Did the thestrals hunt the sheep she’d seen? No idea, she’d have to ask Hagrid. 

In due course the village came into sight and he was relieved that he would be able to get away from her chatter. The shops were located on the main street of the town. It was an image right off a chocolate box or a tourist guide – a row of thatched buildings nestled together and painted in pastel pinks, greens, blue or just plain white. “Oh, it looks charming!” exclaimed Azalea.

“I am going “to do my own thing” now” he told her in his mocking voice. “The shops are up this street, I suggest you avoid the Hogs Head Inn – it caters to the less salubrious clientele.”

“Sounds fun,” she said “but I’m only window shopping today.”

Before he thought better of it he found himself asking “Why do you need windows?”

She laughed, “I don’t. It’s a muggle expression meaning you look but don’t buy?”

“Why have you just walked all the way from Hogwarts if you don’t intend to make a purchase? That’s the only reason to come here,” he asked in perplexed manner.

“Oh Severus, does everything have to be about practicality and efficiency?” she admonished. “I came because I’ve never been here before and I wanted to see what it looked like, I needed a change of scenery, some exercise and of course, the delightful company on the walk up.”

Unsure whether she was making fun of him he replied, “It must be a muggle thing this window shopping. When you’re ready to leave make sure you take this path out of the village and follow it back to Hogwarts.” With that he strode off towards the shop he had come out here to visit.

Azalea walked more slowly in the same direction and ambled up the main street, looking at the shops and going into a few to browse. She loved Honeyduke’s sweet shop and Zonko’s joke shop and thought they would be great places to buy some Christmas presents for her friends back home. There was also a shop, Dervish and Banges, which sold and repaired magic supplies or equipment. She went inside a wizard’s clothing store, Gladrags, but somehow she could not see herself wearing the clothes on offer. The only items she could see were the robes which came either in black or garishly bright there was no middle ground. There was a cloak that caught her eye, reminiscent of the ones in the French Lieutenant Woman film and the Scottish Widow advert. A long black cloak with a hood that covered the head so only the face could be seen. She could imagine herself standing at the end of Lyme Bay promontory, staring out to sea with the wind blowing the cloak out behind her like a bird trying to fly away but failing to escape the ties that bound it to the ground. Romantic but not very practical, she decided and left the shop.

Further along the street she came upon a wizard post office, next to which she could a large owlery, which, when full, must house a couple of hundred owls. Suddenly an idea occurred to her and she went inside and asked whether the post office could also cater for muggle post and exchanging muggle money for wizard money. The post mistress confirmed they could do both. Azalea was delighted to hear that because her idea had been to do some freelance proof reading of muggle publications in her spare time. That way she’d earn some much needed money during her stay at Hogwarts. She resolved to telephone Lucy when she got back to Hogwarts and ask her to get some names and phone numbers to enable Azalea to get the ball rolling.

Feeling pleased with herself she left the Post Office and was met with the sight of the incongruous pairing of Hagrid and Filius walking down the street. They both spotted her and Filius called out to her. “Azalea, I didn’t know you were coming here today. We’re off the pub, would you like to join us?”

“I’m afraid I’m embarrassed by my pecuniary situation so I’ll have to pass today,” she replied.

Hagrid looked a bit confused and she heard Filius whisper to him “she hasn’t got any money.” He then spoke in a normal voice to Azalea, “don’t worry about that I can stand you a drink today and you can get me one another time.”

Grateful for his offer and wanting to sit down for a while before she set off for the return journey, Azalea accompanied them to the Three Broomsticks. Filius approached the bar first and speaking to both her and Hagrid he asked, “Right what’s your potion?” 

Hagrid said “Potion?”

“I’m making our muggle friend here feel at home,” Filius explained, “so I’m using the muggle vernacular for asking what you’d like to drink.”

“It’s poison” said Azalea, adding by way of clarification, “the expression is “what’s your poison?””

“Ah,” said Filius, “I’d better make sure I don’t say that in the Hogs Head or I will end up with poison for a drink.”

“It can’t be that bad in there, can it?” she asked.

“I go in there a lot” said Hagrid, “no one’s ever tried t’ poison me.”

Azalea scanned the range of available drinks and then asked “I’ve heard the students talk about butterbeer, what’s that like?”

“It’s all right for students,” said Filius.

“Is it alcoholic?” she asked.

“No.”

“In that case I’ll have something else.”

“Yeh could mix it wi’ fire whisky,” suggested Hagrid, “tha’ improves the taste.”

“That’s a good idea” she said “can I have a butterbeer with a fire whisky chaser? We are in Scotland, home of whisky, it would be rude not to try it.”

Filius laughed, “You’re a woman after my own heart Azalea.” Turning to the barmaid he placed the order, “Three fire whiskies and a butterbeer for the lady please.”

When the drinks arrived Azalea tasted the butterbeer, “Mmm it tastes like cream soda with caramel, it’s a bit sweet for me.” She then tried the fire whisky, “wow, that gives a bit of kick doesn’t it? Now the question is, should I use up the fire whisky by putting it in the butterbeer or savour it by drinking it straight?”

“Live dangerously and do both,” said Filius tipping his fire whisky into her butterbeer. “Now try it.”

She tasted the butterbeer and had to agree with Hagrid that the addition of the fire whisky improved the taste of it. However, she wasn’t going to make butterbeer one of her regular drinks, with or without the addition of fire whisky.

The three of them sat at the bar for a while longer chatting all the while. Hagrid bought another round of fire whiskies, with a double for himself, and Filius enquired what Azalea thought about Hogsmeade. 

“It’s charming,” she said, then added enthusiastically, “I discovered that the post office takes muggle parcels and letters so I’m hoping to earn some money by proof reading. I could do with a spell check but computers don’t work here. What are you grinning about, Filius?”

“I’m wondering what muggles would do with a spell cheque?”

“Check the spelling of words, of course. What would wizards do with one?”

“Pay for things using magic.”

“I think we’re getting confused by homonyms here.”

“Ah yes, homonyms and they lead to such amusing spelling errors. Speaking of which, Azalea, I can help you to check the spelling of the work you’re going to proof read. I have a little charm that I use to identify and correct the spelling mistakes on the scripts I am given by students, it saves me having to plough through their work for those sorts of errors. It won’t help you with the homonyms though, providing they are correctly spelt. The only thing I would ask is that you don’t let any of the students know about the charm, it would only make them careless and lazy about their spelling.”

“Thank you, Filius you’re an angel” she said gratefully. 

“One more thing” asked Filius, “where are you going to get all this spare time from to do your proof reading? Your timetable is pretty full, I hope you’re not going to stop coming to my class.”

“No, I won’t. I’ll have to reduce the amount of time I spend in the library on catching up I suppose and do proof reading instead and there’s the weekends too. Also,” she mused, “I‘ll have to go to fewer potions classes.”

“That’s probably a good thing, I’m always hearing the students complain about Snape’s classes.”

“Students complain about anything. He does have a bit of a bad attitude towards the students, but actually I think he’s an effective teacher in his own way given the nature of the subject. Horses for courses, I guess.”

“I think we should make a move back to Hogwarts now” suggested Filius. “The Triwizard visitors are arriving next week and we’ve a lot of arrangements to do, so we best get going.”

“That’s right, soonest started, soonest finished,” she said. “You can tell me about the Triwizard tournament on the way back. Are you coming with us, Hagrid?”

“Oh ah, no I gotta see a man about a dragon yeh know, see yeh both at dinner.”

All three then left the warmth of the pub, Flitwick and Azalea towards Hogwarts and Hagrid in the direction of the Hogs Head. Unbeknown to any of them, sitting in a secluded alcove out of sight of the bar was Snape. He’d been there when they had arrived and he’d decided not to move in case he drew attention to himself. Part of him had wanted to join them but he still had a residual concern left over from his childhood that he’d not be welcome. He didn’t want to test that theory today. He imagined Azalea putting on a polite disdain for his presence whilst she chatted to the more interesting people and he wasn’t ready for rejection by her just yet. He’d overheard most of their conversation and was unaccountably dismayed to learn that he’d be seeing Azalea less often in his classroom. On the other hand, she had supported him against criticism, not many people he knew did that. He rose from the alcove, put on his coat and picking up the items he had come into the village to buy he left the pub and headed back towards Hogwarts.


	12. Visitors Arrive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arrival of the other schools competing in the Triwizard competition

Early the following week a notice was posted in the entrance hall to the school announcing that the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be arriving that Friday and staff and students were to greet the guests at 6:00 pm prior to a welcoming feast. The next few days at Hogwarts were a flurry of activity. There was only one topic of conversation – the Triwizard competition - with the students speculating who would put their name forward and what the visiting students would be like. The castle itself underwent a spring clean. “No doubt with the house elves doing the lion’s share of the work,” Hermione muttered darkly to Azalea when they saw each other in the library. One piece of work which wasn’t done by the house elves was the polishing of the armour; this became the detention of choice that week. 

On Wednesday Azalea found herself supervising a set of students put on armour polishing duty. The students had been put in detention by several teachers and, as was typical, more of them had been referred by the potions professor than any other teacher. A couple of students were in detention from Professor Burbage, and so Azalea was given the task of detention supervision. She thought to herself that putting a student in detention involved the teachers in giving up their own time to supervise and she wondered why some of them were so quick to punish students in this way. 

Azalea assembled the students and gave them their instructions. “This is a detention, so there will be no use of magic, if I catch any of you using magic then your wand will be confiscated for a week. Instead, you will be using this metal polish, polishing rags and elbow grease.”

“What’s elbow grease, Miss?” asked a student, clearly not a muggle.

“It means vigorous physical labour, in this case rubbing hard to bring up the shine on the armour,” she explained.

“I realise that hard work is not a concept familiar to you,” a disdainful voice came from behind her, “but I expect to be able to see my face in the armour when you have completed the task. Start now and I shall be back to check on the results at the end of your detention,” ordered Snape and he swept off down the hall; his robes flying out behind him in a bat-like manner. The students moved away to start their task and Azalea heard one of them mutter why would Snape want to see his ugly face reflected anywhere. The professor appeared not to have heard and Azalea forbore to draw his attention to it.

The students took one set of armour each to work on, which left only one set along that particular corridor so Azalea decided to polish it herself for completeness of the row. Of course, the condition not to use magic didn’t apply to her but as she didn’t know the spell for polishing, she used the same method as the students. There was something satisfying about watching layers of tarnish being removed to reveal a shining surface underneath, as if the beauty of everything was just waiting to be discovered and all you needed was the knowledge of how to find it. Every so often she walked up and down the corridor to check on the students, who were applying themselves to the polishing with obedience, if not enthusiasm. Just before the detention drew to a close, Snape re-appeared, and true to his word, checked on each piece to look for his reflection. He made the students re-do any pieces until he was satisfied with their work and then dismissed them. 

Azalea, meanwhile, continued to work on the last suit of armour when Snape approached her. “Are you in detention too?” he asked in a voice devoid of his usual sneering tones and she wondered whether this was his attempt at humour. 

“It feels like it”, she replied with a short laugh. “No, I thought I’d do this one so it doesn’t look like the odd one out along this corridor.”

“You don’t have to use elbow grease, you know,” he informed her.

“I know but I’m sadly lacking in my education on household spells. When I arrived at Hogwarts I thought cleaning spells would be the first thing I learnt but my rooms are always kept clean while I’m out, so I haven’t got round to learning any yet, “ she informed him, then added, “I’ll need to learn some before I go home though.”

“Are you planning to go home soon?” he asked, far too quickly for his own comfort.

“Oh no, just over Christmas, so I’ve got time to learn some.”

“I shall teach you one," he offered and waving his wand over the suit of armour saying “expolio” and the armour was instantly shining brightly.

“That’s much quicker than my way,” she said but couldn’t resist using the test he had set for the students, “but can I see my face in it?” She looked at her reflection which was a distorted version of her face in the convex shape of the breast plate. The clarity of her reflection was sufficient to make out a smudge of metal polish on her cheek. She rubbed at it with the polishing rag. 

Snape had been watching her with some amusement at her imitation of him and said to her “You’re making it worse, not better, let me help.” He took the rag from her, and holding her face in his hand turned her towards him and rubbed at the smudge using a clean spot on the rag until the smudge was gone and her soft cheek clean again. “There, that’s got it,” he declared lifting his eyes higher and instantly they locked onto hers. Bright green eyes looked into a pair of dark brown ones for two seconds that seemed to stretch into eternity. Both became aware of the intimacy of their gaze at the same time and simultaneously broke contact. He thrust the rag back into her hand and retreated down the corridor berating himself for stopping to talk to her in the first place. He recalled looking into her eyes - they weren’t exactly the same as Lily’s had been, they were brighter but not as green. Azalea lightly touched her face where his hand had held it feeling the warmth and light pressure of his touch fade away as she watched him walk away from her. She recalled his beautiful dark brown eyes and how they shone out from his pale face like pools of mystery that she wanted to dive into heedless of the consequences.

Friday arrived and the staff and students assembled at the entrance to the school to welcome the visitors. The students were being arranged according to their houses with the head of each house remaining with their own house. Azalea and the other members of staff who were not assigned to a house stood in a discrete row behind the students. Azalea could hear the students speculating on how the visitors would arrive. After a short wait Dumbledore announced the arrival of the Beauxbaton delegation. A flying coach painted baby-blue and pulled by twelve enormous winged horses landed inelegantly, but in one piece, just by the front row of students. Azalea was fascinated by the horses and knew that Hagrid would be fascinated too. He would be in his element if he was allowed to help feed and water them. A boy in pale blue robes came of the carriage and opened out a set of steps, down which alighted the largest woman Azalea had ever seen in her life but a handsome woman nonetheless. She must be larger than Hagrid, thought Azalea and then gave a smile thinking that the woman was another reason why Hagrid might find the Beauxbaton visitors fascinating. Azalea’s attention then turned to the students who had followed the giantess from the carriage, they seemed inappropriately dressed for the cold Scottish weather being clad in silk robes. Dumbledore greeted the woman as Madame Maxine and invited the visitors to wait inside the building to warm up pending the arrival of the Durmstrang delegation. 

As the Beauxbaton visitors filed past her Azalea could hear them chattering in French, mostly about how cold it was. Azalea was glad that she would have the opportunity to practice her French, she was far from fluent but could hold a basic conversation. Once again she was struck by the lack of variety in the Hogwarts’ curriculum, foreign languages didn’t seem to figure at all, unless there was a spell for instantaneous language acquisition or translation. A magical Babelfish perhaps? Now that would be handy, she mused, for talking to the next set of visitors because her knowledge of Bulgarian was non-existent. 

The arrival of the Durmstrang group was just as impressive, a ship looking like an archetypal shipwreck, rose from the lake and glided towards the lakeside where it anchored and a gangplank was lowered for the passengers to disembark. As the company drew closer into the light from the Hogwarts building Azalea noticed that these visitors were probably as overdressed for the weather as the previous visitors had been underdressed. Each student was enveloped in a thick shaggy fur cloak and the man leading them dressed more elegantly in a sleek silver fur. In reply to the man’s greeting Dumbledore addressed him by name, Professor Karkaroff, and invited him and his charges inside. The professor called forward one his students, Viktor, to go ahead of the others. Azalea was instantly aware of a buzz of excitement from the assembled Hogwarts students. After a whispered conversation with Charity she established that the boy Viktor was a world famous Quidditch player. Knowing nothing about Quidditch the name Viktor Krum was meaningless to Azalea but she could understand the reaction from the students. She would have had a similar reaction if a world famous football player suddenly came on an extended visit to her school, even if she wasn’t much of a football fan.

The Hogwarts students and staff followed their visitors into the Great Hall which had been decorated with the individual banners of the four houses over their respective tables and the Hogwarts coats of arms over the teachers’ table at the top of the hall. The Beauxbaton visitors went to sit at the Ravenclaw table and Azalea noticed one girl in particular who had striking good looks. The Durmstrang students after some indecision went to sit with the Slytherins. Azalea idly thought that Severus might approve of that and looked across to where he was sitting but he appeared not have noticed where the students had placed themselves, instead he was glaring at the Durnstrang Professor with a distinct look of dislike, which surprised her, he was usually so guarded. She carried on making her way to the top table as usual and noticed that four extra chairs had been placed at the table, two either side of Dumbledore. Two, as she expected were filled by Karkaroff and Madame Maxine the other two remained vacant for the time being. Dumbledore invited everyone to eat their fill and Azalea helped herself to a delightful Bouillabaisse, hoping that the presence of the visitors might lead to more variety in the choice of dinner menus. During the meal the two vacant seats were occupied by two men Azalea had not seen before. She questioned Filius as to their identity and he told her they both worked for the Ministry of Magic. The short, fat one was Ludo Bagman, who was once a world class Quiddich player but was now head of Magical Games and Sports, the other, Bartemus Crouch was currently head of Department of International Magical Co-operation. 

Azalea made Filius guffaw by saying a bagman in muggle parlance was either a travelling salesman, a tramp or a dishonest official who collected gambling money for racketeers. Did Fillius think that Mr Bagman fitted any of those descriptions? Fillius replied that if any of the rumours he had heard about Bagman were true then he was well named indeed. The two of them then spent the rest of the meal thinking of other people who fitted their names perfectly or those who were quite the opposite. The more wine the pair drank, the sillier the suggestions got. Azalea helped herself to another glass of wine and commented, “Do you know, wine improves with age, the older I get the better I like it?” Filius laughed aloud at this earning stern looks from both Dumbledore and McGonagall. When Azalea mentioned to Filius that a “dumbledore” in muggle was another name for a bumblebee, the image of the head teacher in black and yellow striped outfit lumbering from one flower to the next finished them both off and they ended up giggling helplessly and gasping for breath. For the rest of the meal it only took one of them to say “bzzzz” to set them off again. Azalea noticed that several times Snape tried to catch her eye but she ignored him, she was having fun and hoped she wasn’t making a spectacle of herself in front of the students. In truth, the students were paying too much attention to their visitors, especially the famous Quidditch player and the beautiful blonde Beauxbatons girl, to take much notice of the antics of the teachers.

After the meal was finished Dumbledore, stood up to speak to the audience. Azalea and Fillius both avoided looking at each other for the duration of his speech in order not to detract from Dumbledore’s comments. He introduced the two men from the ministry and informed the audience that the two of them, along with himself, Karkaroff and Madame Maxine would be the judges for the Triwizard tournament. He then went on to show the assembled students and staff how the champions would be selected. He produced a plain wooden cup, filled to the brim with dancing blue white flames. Eligible students could put their names in the cup over the next 24 hours after which the three champions (one from each school) would be chosen. The goblet put Azalea in mind of the legend of the Holy Grail which was reputedly of simple design but invested with significant power that only a person of pure heart could drink from it. Turning her attention back to what Dumbledore was saying she heard him warn that no underage students would be able to put their name in and that the chosen champions were under a magical contract to compete, so only those who were serious about the competition should enter. With that he dismissed the students to bed.

Azalea and Filius bade each other good night and went away in different directions. As Azalea reached the steps leading up to the floor where her chambers were located she heard her name being called and she stopped just as she was about to foot on the first step. She turned around to see Severus glaring at her, “You are drunk!” he exclaimed.

“I am not,” she retorted testily, “I’ve only had a couple of glasses of wine. You should see me when I am really drunk. Anyway, what’s it to you how much I drink?”

“Nothing,” he said as if he suddenly regretted what he was doing, “it is nothing to me, of course. I do not wish to witness you or Filius shaming us in front of our visitors. Karkaroff couldn’t keep his eyes off you all throughout dinner and you giggling and acting like a child was hardly dignified behaviour for Hogwarts staff, I expect better of you.”

“Well, Severus, as you’re so fond of reminding me – I am not Hogwarts staff – so I can be as undignified as I like.”

“You are misinterpreting my words; I only remind you that you’re not staff when you are attending my lessons. I seem to recall that I gave one of my students a detention for being rude to you when you broke up that fight last week,” he said hotly, thinking why did this woman make him feel like he had to justify his actions all the time.

She sighed, “Yes, you did. All right, Severus, I’ll be on my best behaviour and I won’t bring Hogwarts into disrepute while our guests are here. Happy now?”

“Make sure you remember that,” he shot back leaving her to go back to her rooms and no, he wasn’t happy, he hadn’t been happy for years, he had forgotten what being happy was like.

Azalea stomped up the stairs and stalked down the corridor to her chambers. Why did he have to come and ruin the end of a good evening, lecturing her like she was a child, was he only ever happy when he was upsetting people? She reached her chambers and greeted Sophia, whose portrait had been cleaned as part of the spring clean and Sophia was delighted with her bright, fresh appearance. Azalea entered her rooms. She wasn’t yet tired enough to sleep and the run in with Snape had spoiled her good mood. She got out the book she was currently proof reading, even with the assistance of Filius’ spell check charm, the concentration required for accuracy soon overrode any lingering effects of the wine she had consumed. She worked on it until she was too tired to continue and she then went to bed.


	13. Triwizard Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The champions get chosen and Azalea realises who she is related to.

The next day when she went to the Great Hall for breakfast, Azalea was surprised to see so many students up at this time on a Saturday, then realised it must the novelty of the Goblet of Fire that was the attraction. The candidates had only been given 24 hours to submit their names and she overheard someone saying that all the Durmstrang students had already put their names in. She observed a movement by the entrance and the identical twins in the sixth year strolled in to the hall looking pleased with themselves. One of them approached the goblet and dropped his name into the flaming goblet and his twin quickly followed him. A loud bang emanated from the protective circle around the goblet and they were then both blown backwards out of the circle. She watched with surprised amusement when the pair of them proceeded to grow long white beards. Dumbledore came in at that point and, looking amused himself, reminded them of his warning that underage students would be prevented from submitting their names; with that he sent them off to the sick bay. Azalea noted that the twins took the matter in good spirits as they always seemed to do, whether their pranks worked or not, she thought they’d be fun to have at a party. Presently, the Beauxbaton contingent filed past and all entered their names, none of them suffered the same fate as the twins, so Azalea deduced that they had been informed before choosing their candidates that only over age students would be permitted to enter. 

Azalea passed the rest of the day catching up with some studying in the library and doing some more proof reading. She returned her books to her rooms and arrived promptly for the evening meal. The Goblet of Fire was now standing in front of the teachers’ table since the names were to be drawn out after the feast. That day was Halloween and the Great Hall was decorated for the occasion, she supposed that Halloween was normally a day of celebration for the wizard world but that was overshadowed today by the Triwizard Tournament event. She took her usual place at the top table between Filius and Charity. True to her promise to Snape, she acted with decorum during the meal and Filius was doing likewise. Both of them were aware of the significance of the occasion and would not have acted in an improper manner in any event. As Azalea reached across to refill her glass she had the feeling that she was being watched intently, she shifted her vision towards the other end of the table and saw Karkaroff staring at her, she returned his stare in a frank manner and he quickly averted his eyes. Something about the man made her feel uncomfortable, from the little she knew about him and from her own observations, she considered him to be a smarmy man. As her gaze swept back down the table she saw that Snape had seen the exchange between her and Karkaroff. She didn’t acknowledge that she had seen Snape and instead let her eye fall upon the Goblet; she spent a few seconds watching the blue white flames dance about in the goblet like gentle petals being blown in a soft breeze. 

The meal ended, the plates cleared away and Dumbledore rose to his feet and announced that the Goblet was almost ready to make its decision. With a wave of his wand he extinguished all light in the room except that of the goblet. The man’s a real showman, thought Azalea, but admired his style nonetheless. Silence fell and seconds ticked by. The flames in the goblet changed colour to red and out flew a piece of parchment. “The champion for Durmstrang is Viktor Krum,” announced Dumbledore and a storm of applause and cheering swept the hall. Minutes later the goblet spat out the second champion’s name, which was Fleur Delacour, the beautiful blonde girl from Beauxbatons, more applause followed. For a third time the goblet changed colour and the Hogwarts champion was announced as Cedric Diggory, a handsome young man from Hufflepuff house, who Azalea recognised as the boy who had shared her railway carriage on the day she arrived at Hogwarts. To rapturous applause he made his way to a chamber behind the teacher’s table where the two other champions had repaired to after being chosen. 

Dumbledore started to address the audience exhorting them to support the chosen champions, suddenly his attention was distracted by the goblet which had produced another set of red flames. A fourth piece of parchment shot out of the goblet. Dumbledore reached out automatically and read out the name “Harry Potter.” 

Azalea saw everyone in the hall turn as one to look at a boy with unruly black hair and round glasses who she had often seen in the company of Hermione and the tall boy with ginger hair. Dumbledore called Harry Potter to go up to him and, accompanied by the other teachers, they all went into the room behind the top table where the other champions had already gone. The noise in the Hall grew louder like an angry buzzing of bees. Azalea heard people saying things like, “typical of Potter to do something like that.” Or, “He thinks he’s better than the rest of us just because he’s the boy who lived.” She’d often heard people use the phrase “the boy who lived” but had never given much thought to what it meant. She turned to Charity and asked her about it. Charity looked at her in surprise but supplied the information saying, “When Potter was one year old, he managed to defeat You Know who, he’s the only person ever to have survived a killing curse. Both his parents died on the same day. I thought you knew that.” 

Something started to dawn on Azalea, a fact she hadn’t thought about for years and she softly asked the question which had formed in her mind, “No, no I didn’t. Who were his parents?” 

“James and Lily Potter. They are quite famous among the wizards for their part in the resistance when You Know Who started the war just before Harry was born.”

Azalea sat there dumb stuck. Why had she never made the connection that Lily may have been involved with the magical world? How could she have forgotten that Lily had changed her name when she married and what her new name was? Azalea recalled a discussion with Lily shortly before her wedding when Azalea was arguing strongly for Lily to keep her name, but Lily could sometimes be a bit of a traditionalist and in the end Azalea had said “well you’ll always be Lily Evans to me” at left it that. 

Questions raced through Azalea’s mind. “Lily’s son had not died. There had not been a car crash, why had Petunia lied to her about the cause of death? Where had Harry been all those years?” She was about to question Charity some more when she called to mind the conversation with Snape on the way to Hogsmeade the previous week, how Severus had stopped when she’d mentioned Lily’s name, why he’d wanted to know more about her cousins when he was normally not interested in the slightest in other people’s families. He knew! He had known from the moment she talked about Lily, James and Harry that Harry was not dead. Why had he not told her? She was filled with anger – anger at having been lied to all these years, she had missed out on a lifetime of knowing her young cousin.

At that moment the door to the chamber where the Triwazard candidates had gone swung open and people started to come out. She saw Snape was one of them and all her anger and frustration boiled over and she needed to take it on someone. She strode up to him, grabbed his arm and roughly pulled him to one side. “You knew!” she hissed, “You’ve known since Hogsmeade that Harry was my cousin and you said nothing! Nothing! You’ve known for days and you’ve never said a word about it. How could you?” 

She repeated “You knew, didn’t you?”

Snape was still reeling from the fact that Potter had somehow contrived to enter the Triwizard tournament. When Snape had suggested that Harry had done it because he enjoyed breaking rules, much to his chagrin, Dumbledore had given him short shrift in front of the other judges and the chosen champions. Consequently, he had little patience left for an hysterical woman. He snatched his arm out of her grasp with a violent motion and he responded sharply “Of course I knew!” 

“Then why didn’t you say anything at the time?” she asked slightly disappointed.

“What, am I your information point?” he retorted acidly.

“No,” she said then added softly, “but I thought we were nearly friends."

He snorted and said scornfully, “Friends? Why do I need friends especially an ignorant, muggle moodblood like you?”

Her voice went deathly quiet “Mudblood? So you are a bigot after all, as well as a black hearted unreformed Death Eater. I see that the leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

“At least I’m not a drunken whore,” he retaliated. 

“Drunken whore! Drunken whore!” she was aware that her voice was rising a couple of octaves and she felt herself starting to seethe in rage. She took a deep breath to rein in her temper then asked in a tightly controlled voice, “Tell me, is Harry Potter my cousin?”

“Yes” he responded savagely. “But that boy is nothing but trouble, why would you want to be related to him?”

Still fuming with anger Azalea said tartly, “We can’t choose our relations and if we could I’d choose him over someone like you any day,” and she stormed off out of the hall.

He barely registered her departure, his mind went back to a comment Moody had made about someone trying to get Potter killed by entering him into the competition. Much as he disliked the boy, Snape had promised Dumbledore to do everything in his power to protect him. He intended to keep that promise but how could he do it when Potter was in the Triwizard ring undertaking the three tasks? He could only hope that Dumbledore and the designers of the competition had truly made it safe for the competitors, the boy’s safety rested in other people’s hands for now and there was little he could do. His thought process had calmed him a little and he looked around for Azalea. He saw her in the distance rushing angrily out of the hall and he remembered that they had exchanged sharp words about Potter. He had no intention of continuing an argument with her right now so he left the hall and headed back to his rooms.

Azalea made her way back to her chambers walking swiftly in an attempt to burn off some of her anger. When she arrived she spoke the password to Sophia and Sophia, noticing her agitated mood, asked her if something was amiss.

“Yes,” replied Azalea thinking it might be helpful to unburden herself by talking about what was troubling her. “Someone, who I like very much, withheld some important information from me. When I went to confront him about it we argued and said some unkind things to each other.”

“This important information” asked Sophia, “for how long had he known it?”

“A few days, I suppose,” Azalea replied after a short pause.

“That is not a long period of time, there may have been a reason why he had not mentioned it. Perhaps he found it difficult to talk about, or had not found the opportunity to discuss it. I was taught that women should not question the decisions of their men folk,” Sophia told her in a sanctimonious way.

Azalea gave a short, tight laugh, “You’re showing your Victorian values there Sophia, times have changed and men and women now live on a more even footing. Anyway,” she added as an afterthought, “he’s not my “men folk”. He said that he’s not even my friend.”

“Maybe you should apologise.” Sophia suggested, “My mother always advised me that I should not let the sun go down on an argument.”

“Why should I apologise to him?” Azalea muttered, “He said far worse things than I did. No, if I try to speak to him now I’ll only make it worse because I’m still angry. Thanks for the idea, I’ll see how I feel in the morning. Good night Sophia.”

“Good night Azalea.”

As she entered her rooms, Azalea considered the idea of apologising but dismissed it. She undressed and took a long shower to calm herself down. She stood under the water and visualised the water washing away the anger and tension from her body. The water and soap suds swirled away down the plug hole, starting as a large whirlpool and spiralling away to a single point before disappearing down the drain. As she watched the water vanish she felt herself relax and began to think that it had been unfair of her to take out her frustration on Severus. It wasn’t his fault that Petunia had lied to her about Harry’s survival and it wasn’t his fault that Harry had been excluded from her life. His only fault, in this matter, was that he could have told her a few days ago. On the other hand, if she hadn’t discovered the truth today would he ever have told her? She sighed, she would get no answer to this question tonight and perhaps she’d rather not know. She finished her shower and got changed into her nightdress. She wasn’t ready to sleep yet so she settled down to do some more proof reading and the focus on that task soon took her mind away from Harry and Severus.


	14. I See no Difference

A few days after the choosing of the Triwizard champions, Azalea had not yet apologised to Snape or he to her. In fact they had barely spoken; it was as if they were avoiding each other and, to a point, she was avoiding him. However, today he was giving a lesson on antidotes to the fourth years and it was a subject she wanted to learn about so there was no getting away from him today. As she approached the potions classroom she could see students backing up the corridor as if getting out the way. She then heard two voices simultaneously shouting “fumunculus” and “densaugeo” and she saw a flash of light that showed that wands had been used. She hastened to the source of the sound and saw Harry and the blond boy, Malfoy, wands drawn and facing each other in aggressive stances. She took in the fact that two other students, one of whom was Hermione, appeared to have been caught in the cross fire of the angry exchange.

“And what is all this noise about?” said a voice in soft tones which Azalea knew without looking belonged to Snape. 

“Potter attacked me sir..” Malfoy started to explain.

“We attacked each other at the same time!” Harry shouted.

“-And he hit Goyle. Look-” 

Azalea assumed that Goyle was the name of the other student who had been hit in the cross fire and Snape sent him to the hospital wing. 

The boy with red hair (who Azalea now knew was called Ron), said to Snape, “Malfoy got Hermione! Look!” 

Azalea watched as Ron forced Hermione to remove her hand, which had been covering her mouth, to reveal that her two top front teeth had grown at an exponential rate and were now down to her collar. To Azalea’s horror, Snape merely stared at Hermione and said “I see no difference.” 

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears and she rushed away up the corridor. Harry and Ron started to shout at Snape at the same time and although Azalea couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying she could get the gist and it was a view she shared. She pushed her way forward and thrust her face right up to Snape’s and hissed angrily at him “You bastard, you utter bastard!”

Snape stepped past her and calmly said to the two boys, “Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside or it’ll be detentions all week.”

As the students filed past to get into the classroom, Azalea stood in front of Snape and demanded, “What about Malfoy? He should get a detention too.” Then she continued indignantly “Your comment to Hermione was unforgivable, what sort of teacher do you think you are to insult a student like that when the situation was not of her making?”

He glared at her and spoke angrily, “and what sort of student are you to insult a teacher in the way you did? You can go to detention with Potter and Weasley.”

She stared back at him in surprise, “You’re giving me a detention?”

“Yes, and if you don’t attend then I’ll deduct more points from Gryffindor house and won’t that make you popular with your new friend Harry?” he said with a sneer.

“Fine, I’ll go then,” she capitulated.

“You speak as if you have a choice,” he said in his infuriatingly calm voice.

“Severus, there is always a choice,” she replied equally calmly, “sometimes it’s a choice between the devil and the deep blue sea, but it’s a choice all the same.” With that she strode off into the classroom leaving him wondering why his choice was always with the devil.

The atmosphere in the classroom seemed tense to Azalea; after entering the classroom, she noticed that Ron pointedly ignored Harry and sat next to someone else. She saw a flash of disappointment cross Harry’s face but then he turned his attention to staring daggers at Snape. Azalea could well imagine the things that were going through Harry’s mind at the unfairness of the situation. Snape addressed the class, “You should all have prepared your antidote recipes by now, so I want you to brew them and then we will select someone on whom to test one...” She saw him lock eyes with Harry. Surely he must be joking? He wouldn’t go as far as poisoning a student. The inference had unnerved Harry and Azalea could see the doubt in Harry’s face. Whether or not he would have poisoned Harry was something that they never found out because Harry was called away for the rest of the lesson on Triwizard business.

Azalea was feeling in a pugnacious mood and although she knew it would be unwise to antagonise the teacher she did it anyway. “Professor,” she said and seeing she had his attention she continued, “Are these antidotes for a specific poison or are they generic antidotes?”

“You are each doing an antidote for a different poison. You would know this if you had paid attention at the previous lesson,” he informed her.

“I wasn’t at the previous lesson as I had other commitments. You would know this if you had paid attention to the conditions of my attendance at Hogwarts,” she responded scathingly. In the background she heard a sharp intake of breath from the students who were within earshot, so she carried on speaking before Snape could respond. “Professor, my antidote is for belladonna but the recipe I have is different to the belladonna antidote in the cupboard over there,” she pointed towards a bottle labelled “belladonna antidote” on the shelf of a nearby cupboard.

“Miss Bennett, you obviously have some superior knowledge if you can tell that just by looking at a bottle, pray share your wisdom with the rest of us,” he drawled in reply.

She looked back at him in surprise and without a hint of sarcasm said, “Surely you can see for yourself? The mix of colours in that bottle is different to the mix that these ingredients will make. There’s another ingredient added to that bottle which isn’t in the recipe.” Noticing his sceptical look she added, “and I have got the ingredients exactly as stated in the text book.”

He believed that she was being honest in her reply so instead of making another sharp retort he went to the cupboard and took down the antidote bottle she was referring to. He lifted off the stopper and quickly smelled the contents. He recognised it as one of his improved recipes which didn’t exactly follow the recipe in the text book, there was indeed an added ingredient. That wasn’t the first time she’d talked about colours in relation to magic and potion making. He wanted to question her further but at that point a cry from a student whose antidote was spilling out of the cauldron diverted his attention and he snapped at Azalea, “just get on and follow the recipe in the text book and stop trying to be clever.”

Azalea waited until he had sorted out the problem with the over spilling antidote, then asked him another question, “Professor, do you have an example of a finished belladonna antidote which does follow the recipe in the text book?” He reached onto the shelf and took down a smaller bottle, also labelled belladonna antidote, and showed it to her. “Oh yes, that’s the same, I can do it now thanks,” she said cryptically. 

He then saw her raise her wand and he realised she was about to use her “quicker method”. He grabbed her arm before she could complete the action. “You will do it the traditional way,” he snapped.

“But professor, this way produces more consistent results and you won’t have to deal with an overflowing cauldron,” she protested.

“There will be no short cuts in my lesson, do you understand?” he stated firmly.

She lowered her wand and lit the fire beneath the cauldron muttering, “one day you’ll be glad of my short cuts.”

He returned to his desk and sat there appearing to be watching the students work but his thoughts were on Azalea. What was it about her that made him feel so ill at ease? He compared her to a poison for which he needed an antidote. Azalea, even her name spoke of poison. The azalea flower was beautiful but the azalea plant was toxic and could be fatal if ingested. She stole into his thoughts when he wasn’t expecting it; “she was the like a delicate liquid that was creeping through his veins, bewitching his mind, ensnaring his senses”, he mentally recited in an echo of the opening talk he gave to the first years, the one she had thought so eloquent and evocative. Now he could never use those words again without thinking of her. He needed an antidote to her poisoning of his mind, his senses and his reason. He looked across at her making her potion in the traditional way but still managing to share a quiet joke with the student she was working next to. He noticed the way she held her head slightly to one side when she was concentrating, how she had a stray bit of hair which didn’t quite tie back and fell softly over her forehead, how her green eyes would light up with mirth when she found something funny, how hardworking she was with all the new things she must be learning, how gracefully she walked, and an image of her walking away from him dressed in her exercise clothes came to mind, how she would try to talk to him despite all his attempts to brush her off and he wasn’t at all certain that he wanted to be cured of her poison.

Later that day Azalea went to the hospital wing to check on how Hermione was doing and was relieved to see that her teeth had been restored to normal. She asked Hermione if there had been a falling out between Harry and Ron, because despite their united front against Snape with his cruel comment to Hermione, they seemed a bit distant to each other. Hermione sighed and explained that she thought Ron was jealous of Harry getting into the competition.

“Why would he be jealous?” Azalea asked, “if you want my opinion you’d have to be nuts to want to enter it. I know I don’t know Harry very well but from what I’ve heard about him he wouldn’t have tried to put in his own name, would he?”

Hermione replied at once, “No, he wouldn’t and I don’t believe that he did. I think he was looking forward to an uneventful year at Hogwarts this year with someone else in the spotlight. I hope that he and Ron make up their differences soon because I can see that they are both missing each other but neither will admit it. They’re both being stubborn and neither of them is prepared to make the first move no matter how much I try to persuade them.”

A short while later Azalea was asked to leave to hospital wing when Madam Pomfrey said her patients needed to rest, so she bade farewell to Hermione. As Azalea walked back to her rooms she noticed that the light was on in Snape’s office. Since the night the champions had been chosen Azalea had regretted her harsh words to Snape, it hadn’t been his fault she never knew about Harry being alive. She remembered what Hermione had said about neither Harry nor Ron wanting to make the first move and on impulse Azalea resolved to go now to see Severus and try to make peace between them, apologising if necessary.

She reached his office and knocked on the door but there was no reply. She tried to turn the door handle but the door was locked from the inside. She put her head close to the door and called quietly, “Severus, it’s me Leah, can I talk to you please?” There was still no reply but she was certain he was in there so she said more loudly, “I know you’re in there. Open up the door because if you don’t then I’ll have to do it. I don’t have your finesse so I’ll probably end up blowing the door off its hinges.” 

She heard a soft click as the lock was released and she slowly pushed opened the door. She went inside and closed the door behind her. The room was dimly lit by a single lamp on the desk. The desk itself was covered with student’s work, the marking left unfinished and in disarray as if Severus had just thrown the papers around in frustration, whether at the quality of the work or some other reason she couldn’t tell. She looked around for him and saw him sitting in a chair by the fire staring absently into the flames and not acknowledging her presence. She stepped across the room and knelt down next to him and began to speak. “I feel I should apologise to you for having a go at you after the choosing of champions. It’s not your fault that someone kept the truth from me. You’d only just come out of the meeting about Harry’s entry into the Triwizard and I gave no thought to what had gone on in there. I shouldn’t have argued with you in public. That’s not to say that I agree with you withholding information from me, you may well have had your reasons, but my timing was wrong and for that I am sorry.” However, being true to her honest nature she added, “but I’m not sorry about my reaction to your comment to Hermione today, it was a terrible thing for a teacher to say about a student.” 

Severus continued to stare into the fire and avoid her gaze, so she wasn’t sure if he had heard her. She’d said her piece and now she decided it was time to go. Standing up she put her hand on his shoulder and said again, “I am sorry.” She felt his hand cover hers and knew then he had heard her. She interlinked her fingers with his then slowly raised both their hands and gently kissed his hand before releasing her fingers and placing his hand back on his lap. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said. 

As she left the room neither of them said a word. After she’d gone Snape left the seat by the fire and returned to his marking with a much lighter heart than when he’d started.


	15. Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea, Ron and Harry attend detention, the boys learn a new trick and Harry finds a photograph he's never seen before.

When Azalea arrived at the potions classroom for the detention Harry, Ron and Snape were already there.

“I see you’re cutting it fine Miss Bennett.” Snape said glaring at her.

“I call it punctuality, Professor, it’s just as unpunctual to be early as to be late,” she replied tartly as she put her bags down on a desk near the front.

“It’s better to be early than late because you can’t go back to be on time if you arrive late,” he shot back.

“Just as well I wasn’t late then, isn’t it?” she retorted thinking that this detention wasn’t getting off to a good start.

Snape seemed to be thinking the same thing and indicated a tray at the front of the classroom and told the boys and Azalea that their detention would be to pickle the rats’ brains in the tray.

Azalea and the boys looked at the contents of the tray with a measure of disgust. Unlike human brains, of which Azalea had seen many illustrations with its typical ridged walnut shape, a rat’s brain was smooth and elongated, comprising of three parts, with the front two parts being further divided into two lobes each. They were also tiny and Azalea guessed they must weigh only a fraction of an ounce each.

Snape began to give them their instructions “You need to pack these brains carefully into the storage jars then add the preservative liquid until the jar is full, finally sealing the jar to ensure it is airtight. The quality of the preserving fluid is of utmost importance. It is beyond your current ability to make it so here is some I made earlier,” at this point both Harry and Azalea stifled a giggle, Ron shot them a look not understanding the source of their amusement and Snape continued as if he hadn’t noticed the interruption, “The amount of preserving fluid has been precisely calculated to be all you need so don’t waste it. The rats’ brains are extremely delicate and need to be handled gently. I don’t want to see any of them damaged or you will have a further detention.”

Azalea asked the question which had been concerning her since she saw the tiny brains lying in the trays, “Professor, what happens to the rest of the rat?”

“I am only concerned with its brain; it is a valuable ingredient in potion making.”

“I understand that Professor, but those animals died so you could have their brains. I believe that no death should be a wasted death and surely we owe to animals to use as much of their body as possible when we kill them for our own purposes,” she explained with an element of passion in her voice.

He expelled a breath in exasperation, “I am informed that the carcasses are fed to the owls, does that satisfy your sensibilities?”

“Not quite, are the rats killed humanely?”

“Yes, because the brains make better potions if the animal was not under stress when it died. Really, Miss Bennett, you should save your concern for your fellow humans and not worry so much about the welfare of animals,” he admonished.

“Advice we would all do well to remember, Professor” she stated blandly.

Harry and Ron listened to this exchange with incredulity. They had never heard anyone questioning Snape or taking him to task but what was more astounding was that he answered her queries in a way that bordered on civility. 

Snape seemed to become aware that the boys were listening in and so brought the conversation to an end and addressed all three of them saying, “Your detention starts now. I will be back in two hours and I expect you to have completed the task.” He then paused and added, as if an afterthought, “One more thing, I will take your wands. This task is to be done manually – with no mistakes,” he emphasised and held out his hand for their wands. With bad grace the boys handed theirs over. Azalea had to hunt around in her bag before she found her wand and then gave it to him. He swept out of the room leaving the three of them to get on with the job he had left them.

Harry waited until Snape had left the room and then turned to Ron saying, “at least he’s not going to stay in here and watch us work, I’d be sure to make mistakes with his beady eye on us all the time.”

Ron didn’t reply to Harry’s comment, so to fill the silence Azalea said, “Yes, we should be grateful for small mercies, shouldn’t we?”

The three of them approached the front bench and tentatively looked at the rats’ brains piled in the tray. Azalea reached out and started to pick one up but realised as soon as she cupped her hand around it that the thing was extremely delicate and could disintegrate with the slightest pressure. She spoke an order to the boys “They are very frail, don’t try and pick them up yet, we’ve got to think about how to do this without damaging them.” 

They looked at her questioningly and Harry said in a curt voice, “I knew the task seemed too easy, Snape would never miss an opportunity to make me mess things up!”

Azalea replied, “You’re probably right about that, but I wasn’t joking when I said I didn’t approve of animals being killed for nothing and I don’t want to make these rats’ death in vain by damaging their brains. So we do need to find a way to do this.”

Harry took this moment to ask her about the conversation they had just heard between her and Snape, “How do you manage to get away with talking to Snape the way you did? If I did that I’d be in detention for life.”

She laughed, “Yes, I expect you would. I suppose it’s because of my rather unique position at this school being both a student and a teacher, plus of course I am an adult. I only agreed to come to this detention because he threatened to take away all of Gryffindor’s points if I didn’t.”

Harry responded “You don’t really get to choose if you come to detention do you?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never done a detention before, but there’s a first time for everything, so here I am. Anyway, back to the task in hand, do either of you have any bright ideas?”

Ron broke his silence and made a suggestion, “If we put some fluid in the jar before we put any brains in then that should cushion the drop so that they don’t land too hard on the base of the jar.”

“Good idea, Ron,” said Harry enthusiastically, “then as the jars fill up we can add more liquid bit by bit so there’s always a cushion of liquid over the brains.”

Ron went to fetch the preserving fluid and as he picked it up it reminded him of his previous puzzlement so he asked Azalea, “What was funny when Snape said he’d made these earlier?”

Harry and Azalea giggled again and Azalea explained, “It’s a catchphrase on muggle television programmes for children. Whenever the presenters are showing children how to make things, they don’t have time to go through every step so they have examples they have already prepared and the phrase “here’s one I made earlier” has fallen into general use. It amused me to think of Snape demonstrating to a child how to make a model out of junk.”

“Oh,” said Ron, “now I see the joke.” He turned to Harry and added brightly, “I must tell that one to Dad, you know how he loves things like that.” Harry looked pleased that Ron had directly spoken to him but at the same time Ron remembered he wasn’t talking to Harry and turned away to put the preserving fluid jar on the bench. The three of them poured a small amount of fluid into a couple of the pickling jars and then gave some thought as to how to get the brains in without damaging. They all tried to pick one up gently but even the slight pressure from their fingers and hands was enough to damage the brains so they gave up on that method.

“What we need,” said Harry, “is something to levitate them off the trays and then to put them carefully into the jars. If only Snape hadn’t taken our wands we could easily do it.”

“That’s a good solution,” Azalea told him, “but can’t you do a levitation spell without a wand? It’s quite simple, look.” She raised her hand over one of the brains and it rose slowly into the air; she carefully manoeuvred it over a pickling jar and then lowered it gently into the jar where it met the fluid and drifted down to the bottom of the jar like a leaf falling in slow motion from an autumn tree. 

The boys watched in amazement. “How did you do that?” Harry asked.

“Just the same as if you have a wand, you visualise what you want to do, say the incantation and focus the power over the object you want to move. I suppose you haven’t covered this in your lessons yet. Go on have a go,” she invited, “but it’s probably best not to practice on the brains, we don’t want to damage them.”

Ron and Harry got some quills from their bags and tried to do as Azalea had shown them. They both concentrated and tried to focus on moving the quills as Azalea had described but nothing happened. “I think that the wand is just a way of focussing power that lies within the wizard,” Azalea said in encouragement, “if the power was in the wand then anybody could use one. I do find using a wand helpful to learn the spells and if I need particularly fine control. It’s sort of like the difference between finger painting and painting miniatures portraits. Once you’ve got the hang of it you can do fun things like this” and she gathered up a ball of fire in her fist and threw it at the table where she had left her back pack. The table slid several feet along the ground knocking her back pack off at the same time. The boys laughed and returned their attention to the quills. Azalea left them to practice whilst she carried on putting the brains, one by one, into the pickling solution.

She heard a whoop behind her and turning round she could see Ron with his hand over a quill which was hovering an inch or so above the desk. Harry redoubled his efforts and a few minutes later he also had his quill suspended in the air. After a bit of practice moving the quills in the air they decided to have a go with the brains, as it was clear that Azalea would not be able to finish the task unaided. Slowly at first, they guided the brains into the solution but gained confidence as they did more and before long they were almost as efficient at it as Azalea. With all three of them working they finished the task with a few minutes to spare. “Perhaps it’s best if we don’t tell Professor Snape how we did it,” suggested Azalea, “especially if you’re not meant to know about wandless magic yet.”

“Agreed,” said both boys in unison, both thinking of the advantages that wandless magic would give them and both secretly resolved to try out more spells.

Snape then entered the classroom, “Your time is almost up,” he announced and walked over to the front bench expecting to see the task barely started or trays full of destroyed rats’ brains. He could hardly contain his surprise when he saw the row of jars neatly packed with undamaged brains and the empty trays beside them. He turned round and said in anger “How did you do this?”

“Do what Professor?” asked Azalea in her most innocent voice, “we have done as you asked and pickled the brains without damaging any.” Then she added sweetly, “You were right about the pickling solution, there was only just enough,” and pointed to the empty container on the bench.

Looking around for something else to find fault with he noticed the table that had moved when Azalea threw a fireball at it and her rucksack with its contents strewn over the floor. “Look at the state of this classroom, clear it up at once and then get out of my sight all of you. Here are your wands.” Throwing the wands on the floor to join the items from the rucksack, he stormed out of the classroom and back to his office.

Ron pushed the table back into position, picked up his wand and then left the classroom without speaking to Harry. Azalea bent down to pick up her rucksack and started to collect together the fallen contents. Harry went to help her and the first thing he picked up was a photograph, he turned it over and was astonished to see that it was a photograph of his parents on their wedding day, one he’d never seen before. It was a muggle photograph so the images were frozen in time and staring out at him were his parents and a host of people he didn’t immediately recognise, then he saw that one of the people was a young aunt Petunia standing next to her a young uncle Vernon. Azalea finished repacking her bag and turned round to see why Harry had gone quiet. She saw him looking at the photograph with a shocked look on his face, “Why have you got a photograph of my parents in your rucksack?” he demanded to know. 

Azalea realised that now was the time that Harry would have to learn the truth, “because it’s the last photograph I have of my relatives taken together before they died,” she said gently sitting down next to him and looking at the photograph with him. 

“Your relatives? YOUR relatives?” he shouted in disbelief.

“Yes,” she said and started to point them out, “that’s Ivy, my mother, next to her is her sister Rose and Rose’s husband, they are Lily and Petunia’s parents, there’s Petunia and her husband Vernon, that’s Lily and James in the centre, there I am next to Lily, I was bridesmaid at their wedding. The elderly couple at the edge are my grandparents, Ivy and Rose’s parents.” She took the photograph from him and gazed at it sadly, saying “within 5 years everyone in this picture was dead, except for me, Petunia and Vernon, but they might as well be dead to me. They haven’t spoken to me for years.”

“So my mother was your cousin,” he concluded after thinking through the relationships she had just explained.

“Yes.”

“That makes you my cousin too doesn’t it?

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Then where the hell were you when I was growing up? Why did you leave me with those people who treated me like dirt,” he shouted angrily at her.

“Harry, we didn’t know you were alive,” she desperately tried to explain, “Petunia told us you had died in the car crash with your parents.”

“There was no car crash,” he yelled, “my parents were heroes who died to save me from Voldemort!”

“I know that now Harry, but what reason did I have not to believe what I was told at the time?”

“How long have you known that I wasn’t dead? How long, tell me, I want to know now,” he demanded his voice rising with each phrase.

“Since the choosing of the champions,” she replied in a quiet voice. “I only made the connection when I heard your name come out of the cup. Please Harry if we’d known earlier we would never have left you with Petunia and Vernon, you must believe me.”

“Why should I believe you? I hardly know you and I’m not sure I want to,” he shouted furiously at her, stood up and rushed out of the room.

At the door he passed Snape who had come to investigate why he could hear raised voices. Snape let him go when he saw Azalea still sitting on the floor looking at the photograph. “So that went well then?” he enquired caustically as he walked up to her but when he saw her eyes brimming with tears he instantly regretted his sarcasm. “Azalea,” he said gently, crouching down next to her, “that boy is not worth your tears.”

“Maybe they’re not for him,” she said “may be they’re for me and all these people who’ve gone from me,” and she showed him the photograph. His eyes were immediately drawn to Lily, like Harry it was a photograph he’d never seen before. Lily shone out of the photograph; the only face he could see and he felt the familiar feelings of loss, guilt and despair but for once he put his feelings aside to try to comfort the woman sitting beside him. The woman who was real and alive and who spoke to him as an equal and who had apologised to him for something that wasn’t really her fault, when he had said far worse things to her.

“Azalea, we’ve all lost people but we need to keep going for those who are still with us.” He then added the words he thought she would need to hear, “give Harry some time to come to terms with having another relative, he’s very lucky to have you.”

She turned her face towards him and gave him a wan smile, “Thank you Severus I’ll do that. I think I’ll go back to my quarters now, I won’t be at dinner tonight but I’ll see you tomorrow.” Snape stood up and offered her his hand to help her stand too, she took it and pulled herself up before releasing his hand to collect her belongings and left him standing in the classroom watching her leave.


	16. The First Task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea’s views on the first Triwzard Task. An unexpected encounter in Hogsmeade and Snape acts impulsively

Several days had passed since the detention and Azalea did not see Harry to speak to. However, she did seek out Hermione in the library and managed to steer the conversation around to the events at detention. As she had suspected, Harry had confided in Hermione about both the wandless magic and the fact that he and Azalea were cousins. Hermione told her that Harry was worried about the forthcoming first task in the Triwizard tournament and wanted to concentrate on that, she assured Azalea that she was certain Harry would come to terms with having another living relative but it would take time. Azalea knew all this of course and didn’t want to put pressure on him so she agreed with Hermione to let Harry decide when he was ready.

“By the way,” said Hermione, “that wandless magic is amazing. However did you discover it? I haven’t been able to find out anything about it in the library.”

“It just seemed logical to me,” replied Azalea.

Hermione laughed, “There doesn’t seem to be much place for logic in the wizard world. Maybe that’s why it took a muggle to work it out.” Hermione then swept her hand over the pile of books on the table and they packed neatly into her rucksack. “I’ve been practising as you can see. It’s reassuring to know that I’ll never be completely defenceless if I ever lose my wand.”

“Yes,” agreed Azalea, “at the very least you’d be able to summon your wand or disarm your opponent. One thing does concern me though; if everyone could do wandless magic then we lose the element of surprise.”

“I suppose so,” said Hermione, “but then we’d be no worse off than we are now. In the meantime, Harry, Ron and I have agreed to limit the number of people we tell about it.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Azalea concurred. “Are you leaving now then?”

“Yes, the first task is the day after tomorrow and I’m going to help Harry with some spells. You will be watching the task won’t you?”

“I certainly will,” confirmed Azalea, “it’s the event of the year, and both students and teachers get the afternoon off lessons! I’ll see you later.”

The day of the first task arrived and it was a cold November day although fortunately not raining. The morning lessons were taken in a state of excitement and tension with the students and teachers looking forward to the event, consequently the quality of teaching and learning was not high that morning. After lunch the spectators, including Azalea, trooped off to the edge of the forest where the task was going to take place. There was a tent for the competitors so they couldn’t see what was happening whilst the other contestants competed. Azalea thought that was a bit hard on the last one to compete. The spectators were directed past the tents and entered into a large enclosure around which were erected some tiered stands for the spectators. Azalea supposed they must have been erected by magic because they hadn’t been there the previous day. There was a section of the stands set aside for the judges and the senior teachers but the junior teachers, including Azalea, were left to find seats among the students. She saw Hermione sitting near the entrance to the stands and went to sit next to her, a few minutes later they were joined by Ron. Once seated she looked down into the enclosure, it was bounded by high fences and the area within was laid out like the foothills of a mountain, with a flat rocky area at the far end with boulders and rocks over the rest of the space. The crowd looked down wondering what the task was going to be. The judges had gone into the contestants’ tent, no doubt to tell them the nature of the task. A few minutes later an opening appeared in the fence near the flat rocky area and to the crowds astonishment a blue-grey dragon was led out by two wizards in thick leather clothing, a third person accompanied them and set out on the rocky ground a clutch of eggs, all coloured white except for one larger golden egg. There was a collective gasp as the crowd realised that the test must involve the contestants against a dragon. A voice came over the loudspeaker and explained to the spectators that the objective of the task was for the contestant to collect the golden egg without damaging any of the others. The announcer then told the crowd that the first contestant would be Cedric Diggory and he would be facing the Swedish Short-Snout dragon. 

A few minutes later Cedric appeared in the doorway and the crowd roared its support for him. Cedric assessed the situation, saw the dragon at the far end staying close to her eggs and crept as close as he dared, using the rocks as cover, without disturbing her. He then pointed his wand at a large boulder and transfigured it into a dog, the species of which Azalea recognised as a Labrador. The dog moved and attracted the attention of the dragon. The dragon reacted swiftly to the perceived threat to her eggs and lunged at the dog; the dog turned and ran; the dragon followed in pursuit, Cedric took the opportunity to run the short distance to the egg and scoop up the golden egg without stopping and headed towards the exit. The dragon realised her eggs were now under a real threat, ignoring the dog she turned and pursued Cedric shooting fire at him and scorching him just before he reached safety. Whilst Cedric had been in the arena the crowd at been going wild; roaring, screaming, gasping and finally erupting into a deafening applause as Cedric succeeded in the task. 

Azalea was reminded of the amphitheatres of ancient Rome, with the lightly armed slaves going in to fight lions or fully trained gladiators, the baying of the bloodthirsty crowd and finally the thumbs up or thumbs down as Caesar decided the fate of the competitors. The comparison made her scared for the contestants, especially for Harry and she sincerely hoped that the dragon handlers would be able to control the dragons if anything went wrong.

The first dragon was led from the enclosure and replaced by the next dragon, which the audience were informed, was the Common Welsh Green. The next contestant was Fleur Delacour and her tactic was to creep as close to the dragon as she could in order to charm it into a trance. Whether due to nerves or inexperience, Azalea couldn’t know, Fleur didn’t perform the charm correctly and the dragon fell asleep rather than going into a trance. This had two repercussions, Fleur was not able to move the animal as far from the eggs as she had hoped so she had to get closer to the dragon than she wanted and secondly the dragon started to snore. Flames shot from its mouth and set Fleur’s robes on fire. She was a plucky girl and demonstrating why she had been selected, she managed to grab the egg before running, robes aflame, to the exit where the fire was quickly extinguished.

Viktor Krum was the next contestant and he was facing a Chinese Fireball dragon. His stratagem was to use a conjunctivitis curse on the beast so that she would not see where he was. His intention was to race in and get the egg while the dragon could not see him. In Azalea’s mind his stocky figure rushing in to pick up the egg reminded her of a rugby player going for a try in reverse. Viktor’s idea was sound but he had not considered the pain that the dragon would be in and she thrashed around in frustration damaging some of her real eggs but Viktor succeeded in taking the egg back to the exit without sustaining any injuries himself.

Finally it was Harry’s turn. Azalea, Hermione and Ron all watched intently as he came into the arena, looking small and vulnerable. The dragon he was up against was the Hungarian Horntail, which Ron told them, according to his brother Bill who one of the handlers, was the most dangerous of the dragons here today. Needless to say this piece of information did nothing to quell their concerns. Hermione was muttering, “Come on Harry you can do it.” Harry waited at the entrance to the arena and uttered a summoning charm, seconds later his broomstick arrived and he leapt on it, soaring into the air and flying around the dragon like a bee around a bear when it has disturbed the hive. Azalea, and the rest of the crowd by all accounts, were amazed by Harry’s skill on a broomstick and finally Harry created the opening he needed and scooped in to pick up the egg and fly back to the exit. The crowd roared its approval. 

Hermione and Ron took the opportunity to slip away into the contestants’ tent, no doubt to congratulate Harry on his successful completion of the first task. Azalea did not attempt to follow them but instead joined in with the applause and chanting from the crowd while they waited for the judges’ scores. The scores were based on speed, skill and avoiding damage to the real dragon eggs. When the judges announced the results Harry and Viktor were in joint first place, followed by Cedric then Fleur. After the results were given the crowd dispersed and Azalea sought out Filius and Charity to talk about the event in animated terms. 

The weekend after the first test Azalea walked in to Hogsmeade to send off her most recently completed proof reading work at the Post Office. She knew she could send them by owl from Hogwarts to the Post Office for onward transmission and sometimes she did; but today she wanted to get away from the school for a couple of hours. The weather was bright and not too windy, which was good because she still didn’t have her winter clothes to wrap herself up in. She walked at a brisk pace to stop her from getting too cold and reached the village in record time. On the journey she still had time to appreciate the rugged beauty of the mountains, there was a lot of snow covering the tops of the mountains at this time year and each time she went to Hogsmeade she could see the snowline creep further and further towards the valley floor, before too long it would be a snowy walk. On arrival at the village, her first stop was the Post Office where she sent off the completed proof reading. The post mistress told her that a new assignment had arrived that day, so Azalea took it to save it being sent on by owl. Azalea had originally expressed her concern for the owls being overburdened but had been assured that the heavy parcels were lightened using magical means so that the weight was never more than the owl could carry. 

After she’d finished at the Post Office she walked down the street looking in the shop windows. She stopped at Gladrags, the wizard clothing shop and noticed that they had changed their range and now stocked an array of dress robes and formal dresses. She realised that this would be due to the Yule Ball which was a traditional part of the Triwizard tournament. As a teacher and an older student she was permitted to go and she was looking forward to seeing what passed for a wizard formal occasion. She went into the shop and started to look at the dresses they had on offer. They were a rainbow of colours and the displays brightened up the interior of the shop. She chatted to the shop keeper for a while about what would suit her and the shop keeper showed her some beautiful dresses but on further enquiry she realised that they were all way out of her price range, so regretfully she left the shop. The visit hadn’t been entirely wasted and it had given her an idea; she had her “little black dress” in her wardrobe which she could embellish with some accessories and that would probably be acceptable. Normally she was the one who liked to wear bright colours when the colour of choice for the wizards at school was black and the irony of her wearing black to a formal occasion while the wizards dressed in their peacock raiment was not lost on her.

She walked past Dervish and Banges, which sold and repaired magic supplies or equipment, and noticed that it too was trying to cash in on the Yule Ball and was displaying some jewellery. She went inside to see if any of the jewellery would be suitable as an accessory for her black dress. At the back of the shop she found a stand full of colourful pendants, although this being a wizard store they were described as amulets and were intended to protect the wearer against various calamities or lesser perils. One in particular caught her eye, it was described as an amulet against unwanted attention. It was an amethyst coloured tear shaped stone suspended from two gold links so that it hung freely inside a gold coloured setting the shape of a laurel wreath, at the base of the wreath three small purple stones complemented the large central one, the whole piece glowed a soft pink. She did not believe it would work as a charm against anything but as a piece of dress jewellery it was perfect to go with her little black dress. She picked it up and was admiring it when she heard a pleasant voice next to her, “I see you’ve got slightly beyond the window shopping now, Azalea.”

She turned to see Severus, she smiled warmly in greeting, “Hello, Severus. You’re right, I’ve ventured inside the shops now,” she glanced down at the amulet she was holding and noticed the price, “but this is still more than I can afford. Pity, because it would have gone well with the dress I’m going to wear to the Yule Ball.”

“You’re going to the ball?” he enquired in what he hoped was a casual way.

“Yes, aren’t you?”

“It’s one of my duties as head of house to go and chaperone the students,” he said in a resigned voice.

Azalea was still holding the amulet and suddenly felt a mischievous mood overtake her. She held up the amulet and said to him, “this is supposed to guard against unwanted attention, let’s test it out.” With that she quickly slipped the chain over his neck and reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Oh well, it doesn’t work anyway.”

He was doubly surprised, once at what she had done and secondly, because the amulets sold at Dervish and Banges usually were genuine. Her copied her mood and, rather against his character, he removed the amulet from his neck and said to her, “I think we need to test it again,” and placing it over her head he leaned forward and gently kissed her on her lips. “You’re correct” his whispered, his face inches from hers, “it doesn’t work.” 

A polite cough interrupted them and they quickly stood apart. The shopkeeper was standing nearby and addressed Snape, “Ah Professor Snape, no doubt you’ve come in for that cauldron you ordered. You’re in luck because it arrived this morning. I haven’t yet had time to send you an owl to let you know.”

Azalea took the amulet off and hung it back on the peg. She then said to Severus, “I’ll leave you to finish your business here and I’ll see you at dinner.” With that she left the shop and started the walk home with the feeling of lips against hers lingering like a whisper for most of the return journey.

In the shop, Severus waited whilst the shopkeeper went to the store room to get the cauldron he had ordered and with the second impulsive action that afternoon he picked up the amulet against unwanted attention and added it to his purchases. The shop keeper returned with the cauldron and noticed the amulet. He nodded in approval and remarked, “A good choice sir, if that was my young lady I’d want her to have all the protection I could give.”


	17. Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas day at Hogwarts and that means exchange of gifts and the Yule Ball.

Christmas day arrived and there was an air of excitement among the students. In view of the Yule Ball, many of the year four and above students had decided to stay this Christmas holiday rather than going home, so the Great Hall was busy at breakfast. The students were exchanging gifts and seasonal greetings and there was a mood of good feeling throughout the school. Azalea had wanted to get her teacher friends Christmas gifts from the muggle world so she had asked Lucy to buy some presents from muggle shops and send them on to her. For Filius she had chosen a selection of muggle real ales and a brewery branded glass to drink them in; for Charity a book on how things work, which was really aimed at children but Azalea had found it educational, and another on household gadgets and appliances; she bought Hagrid a stainless steel vacuum flask and for Severus she got a Swiss army knife which included 2 blades, screwdrivers, wire stripper and cutters, saw, scissors, pliers, chisel and ruler. She had wrapped them all in normal Christmas wrapping paper with a pattern of Christmas trees, holly and baubles. 

Azalea brought the gifts with her to breakfast hoping to see the four of them but only Filius and Charity were there. They were both delighted with their gifts and she promised Filius she’d help him drink some of the beer. Charity started reading the “how things work” book straight away with many exclamations of how inventive and ingenious the muggles were to be able to make things work without the aid of magic. After breakfast Filius and Charity were to help set up the Great Hall for the Yule Ball and so were busy for the rest of the day. As the Hall would be closed at lunch time a packed lunch had been provided. Azalea collected one for herself and then decided to go and give Hagrid and Severus the gifts she had bought them.

She went first to Severus’ rooms thinking he’d probably be tied up for the rest of the day with the Great Hall preparations along with the rest of the staff. She knocked on the door and heard him grunt, “Enter”.

She opened the door, went inside and was surprised to see him at his desk working on his classes’ papers.

“It’s Christmas day!” she exclaimed, “I think you can have a day off today. All work and no play make Sev a dull boy.”

He raised his head from the work he was doing and looked at her, asking brusquely, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying that you don’t have to spend all your spare time working, it can make you boring, or bored.”

He put down his pen and spoke to her “I’m not bored but I suppose I am boring.”

“Not to me,” she responded emphatically. “Anyway, I came down to find you because I’ve got a Christmas present for you. Here you are and Happy Christmas,” she said as she handed him a small box wrapped in muggle style wrapping paper where the images didn’t move about like on wizard gift wrap.

He tentatively took the package from her and she laughed, “Don’t worry it’s not going to explode, I didn’t get it from Zonko’s joke shop. It’s something I hope you’ll find useful.” Then seeing his uncertainty she added, “You don’t have to open it now, you can open later with your others.”

“What others?” he said, “This is the first Christmas present I’ve had for a long time.”

“Oh, is it?” she said feeling unaccountably sad, but continued in a cheerful voice, “In that case, you’d better savour it. I suggest you unwrap it slowly, peeling off the sticky tape piece by piece, next unfold the paper, making sure that you keep the item hidden under the paper until it’s all unwrapped, then you can slowly lift the wrapping paper away and see what I’ve given to you.”

“Is that how you’d unwrap your gifts?” he asked with a slight smile.

“No. I tear the paper off as quickly as possible; ripping it into shreds before throwing it onto the floor so I can see what I’ve got.”

“In that case I’ll use your method,” he said at the same time as he ripped away the wrapping paper in one fluid movement to reveal a small cardboard box showing an illustration of what looked like an exploded knife, which he regarded in puzzlement.

“It’s a Swiss army knife,” Azalea explained seeing his confusion, “No boy scout should be without one. Look, open the box,” she instructed which he did and took out the knife. “Now, see how the blades and tools stow inside the handle, you fold out the one you need and when you’ve finished you fold it back in. You’ve got a basic toolkit there all in a handy size to fit in your pocket. Don’t wizards have anything like this?”

“No,” he said as he pulled out first one implement and then another, “we’d use magic to either do the task or to conjure up a tool to do it with.”

“There may be times when you don’t want to use to magic, or you can’t find your wand, or you just want to do the task manually,” she suggested.

He looked up quickly from his examination of the knife, “I didn’t say I wouldn’t use it,” he reassured her, “I was answering your question about what wizards normally do. This is wonderful. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’re welcome,” she said brightly, “Now I’m off the give Hagrid the present I’ve got for him.”

“Hagrid?” he said in a slightly surly way, “What have you got that lump head that he won’t break or is simple enough for him to understand.”

“Don’t be so rude,” she admonished him, “I happen to like Hagrid and you shouldn’t underestimate him. For your information I’ve got him a vacuum flask.”

“And what does that do?”

“It keeps liquids hot for several hours. I know that Hagrid isn’t meant to use magic, so I thought that he could use it when he’s out in the forest and he can have a hot drink. It’s a stainless steel one so it won’t break if it gets dropped or handled roughly.” She then realised that she had bought Hagrid something that fitted the conditions Severus had just described, she gave a rueful laugh and said, “All right then, you’re correct I did get him something simple and unbreakable; but you still shouldn’t call him a lump head,” she added, determined not to lose all the moral high ground.

Severus had had enough of talking about Hagrid and decided that this would be the best opportunity he would have of giving Azalea the amulet he had so imprudently bought a few weeks ago. Since he had purchased it he had agonised over whether or not to give it to her. How would she interpret its meaning? Now it would simply be a return gift for the one she had given him. “Before you go,” he said as she made a move towards the door, “I have a Christmas gift for you, wait there a minute.” He went into his living quarters, which were located off his office, and took the amulet from the drawer where he had put it. He hadn’t yet wrapped it up but the shop keeper had put it in a presentation box. He brought it back into the office where Azalea was still standing and gave it to her saying, “I haven’t wrapped it up so you can’t pull off the paper but here you are and Happy Christmas.”

Azalea lifted up the lid of the box and nestled inside was a pendant that she recognised as the one that she had admired a few weeks ago, the day when Severus had kissed her. She flushed at the memory but thought it unwise to allude to it again. She composed herself a little and smiling at him said, “Thank you Severus, it’s a beautiful pendant.”

“Amulet.” he automatically corrected. “A pendant is a piece of jewellery but an amulet protects the wearer against danger.”

“I thought we’d already established that this amulet doesn’t work so that makes it a pendant in my book. Whatever you want to call it, I think it’s beautiful and I’m going wear it tonight at the Yule Ball,” she said firmly. “You are still coming aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’ll be there.”

Azalea walked to the door and as she left she turned to him and said, “Make sure you save a dance for me won’t you?” 

“I will,” he promised. She gave him a warm smile and exited the room. He continued speaking to the space where she’d just been, “I’d dance every dance with you if I could.”

Azalea regarded her reflection in the mirror of her wardrobe. She’d done the best she could with the clothes she had with her and thought the result was acceptable. She was wearing a plain black knee length dress which was her default dress whenever she had to go to formal occasions and she couldn’t afford to buy something new. It had short sleeves and a high neckline so no cleavage was on show. The dress had had a lot of outings and she varied its appearance by changing the accessories she wore with it. Today she had added a gold coloured belt, which had come with a pair of trousers, and had tied the belt loosely round her waist; she had put on a pair of beige coloured tights and a pair of dark blue sandals (which she hoped would pass for black in the dim lighting conditions she anticipated in the Great Hall). The heels were higher than she was used to wearing and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to dance all night in them. She hung the amulet that Severus had given her around her neck, its gold and purple contrasted nicely with the black of the dress. In her hair she wore a large black and gold hair comb in the shape of a bumble bee that she had found squashed at the bottom of her bag. She had managed to straighten it up enough to make it stay in place, provided she didn’t do any dancing that involved head banging. As the walk down the corridors to the Great Hall was likely to be chilly she slipped on a black jacket with an album cover for Trouble by hard rock band, Whitesnake, embossed onto it. The jacket had seen better days but she intended to remove it before she got into the hall.

She walked briskly to the Hall and as she got closer she encountered an increasing number of students, heading in the same direction. The male students were attired in their dress robes, which were in dark colours being shades of green, blue, grey and black. The girls, on the other hand, had dressed to impress, and were garbed in beautiful cocktail and formal gowns in bright or pastel colours, in varying lengths and designs from the outrageous to the very conservative. Some of the hairstyles were equally adventurous and the gravity defying creations must be held in place using magic but the girls were still young and could get away with zany outfits. Azalea realised that she must look like an old lady in comparison and recalled her younger days when she would dress for the fun of it and never mind what anyone thought. Tonight, though, she did care what one person in particular thought about the way she had dressed and was happy that she had opted for a demure look. 

She arrived at the Great Hall before the entrance of the Champions, judges and their partners and she headed straight for the drinks table where she could see Filius already studying the drinks on offer. He greeted her with a cheery “Hi Azalea, I see you’ve got your priorities right and found the important place. I’m not sure about your choice of jacket.”

She had forgotten about the jacket and quickly divested herself of it and then had the idea of sending it back to her room until she needed it again, that way she wouldn’t lose it or take the risk of it being stolen. She hadn’t brought her wand with her but with a flick of her hand she performed the banishing spell and sent it back. Filius had watched her and commented “You’ll have to show me how to do that one day but for now let’s try out some of these drinks, starting off with the rum and honey punch I think. That’s an appropriate drink for the ornament in your hair.”

“Or our esteemed headmaster,” she said and Filius laughed remembering their conversation on the night the Triwizard guests had arrived.

The arrival of the Triwizard party at the main door signalled that the feast was about to start and the Champions made their way to the top table, along with their partners and judges. The staff, having been evicted from their normal place at top table, were to sit among the students. Azalea noticed that the students were largely reverting to normal and sitting predominantly with their own houses, with not much mixing going on. She went with Filius to sit at the Ravenclaw table so she could practice her French with the Beauxbaton visitors. She looked around for Severus and saw that he had only just arrived and was heading towards the Slytherin table. The meal at the Ravenclaw table was a light hearted occasion; Filius was popular with his house and his easy going manner made them feel comfortable. Azalea and the French visitors were trying out each other’s languages and making amusing mistakes in their attempts to communicate. By contrast, the Slytherin table was far more subdued but Azalea heard the occasional laughter coming from their table so perhaps they were having fun in their own way. 

Once the meal was finished the tables were cleared away and the band booked for the night, the Weird Sisters, set up and started to play a slow mournful tune. The guests on the top table were to start the dancing off for the evening and came down on the dance floor, after a minute or so other couples joined them. Azalea invited Filius to dance with her, and out of consideration for the difference in their heights, she removed her shoes and the two of them danced a waltz to the music, talking all the while they were dancing. The first song came to a close and the tempo of the next song was much faster. They released each other from the waltz hold and started to dance independently, calling Charity to come onto the floor and she enthusiastically danced along with them. After a few more fast dances the older teachers said they’d go and sit the next few out. Azalea still had the energy to keep going and it had been a while since she’d last been to a dance so she wanted to make the most of it. She joined in with some Ravenclaw and Beauxbaton students who were still going strong. The faster dances continued for twenty more minutes before the band decided to try out another slow one. Azalea went to move off the dance floor when she felt a strong arm encircle her waist from behind, turning round she saw she was in the embrace of one of the Beauxbaton boys, she acquiesced to the invitation but stepped back so that they could dance together at arm’s length. The music played and her partner was inching closer and closer to her in a way which made Azalea feel uncomfortable given the difference in their ages and the fact that he was a student and she a teacher. She was about to tell him so when a passing student carrying a handful of drinks stumbled and the contents of the glasses were thrown over her partner in a sheet of sticky liquid. The Beauxbaton boy swore in French then, apologising to Azalea, quickly left the dance floor so he could go and dry himself out. Azalea took the opportunity to leave the dance floor and to go and look for Severus – he still owed her a dance - and she hadn’t seen him to speak to all evening. 

Snape, meanwhile, was in a bit of a snit. The evening had been dragging interminably. He’d had to eat the meal at his house’s table, which included the Durmstrang guests; it was expected of him as head of house. Azalea was already sitting with the Ravenclaws and Beauxbatons when he’d arrived, so he’d been unable to invite her to join him at the Slytherin table. Her presence would have made the Slytherin and Durmstrang table more convivial if the atmosphere on the Ravenclaw table was anything to go by. Every so often he could hear her clear laugh rise over the general hubbub in the hall. He glanced over in her direction at those times with a disapproving frown on his face but if she noticed him, she gave no indication. Finally the meal was over but before he could go over and speak to her he was waylaid by a Durmstrang boy with a message that Karkaroff wanted to speak to him later. By then Azalea was dancing a waltz with Filius, she was taller than him by over a head but they looked no more mismatched than Dumbeldore and Madame Maxine. The music changed speed and Charity came to join the pair on the dance floor. Snape had no intention of lowering his dignity by joining them. He didn’t want the students to see him jiggling about like a headless chicken. He’d wait until the music slowed down and then he’d claim his dance. He prowled around the room like a panther and gave curt responses to anyone who tried to engage him in conversation. Finally, the racket that was supposed to be music ended and a slow ballad started. He moved swiftly towards the dance floor where he could see Azalea starting to leave, he’d barely stepped three paces when he saw one of the French boys grab her and pull her into his embrace and they started to dance slowly swaying their bodies to the rhythm of the music. 

He continued his swift walk out of the hall and into the garden which had been especially designed for tonight’s ball. He didn’t stop to admire the work that had gone into the design, with its bushes and roses, the benches set beside winding paths that would turn to reveal a statue or a fountain, and scattered throughout were real fairies fluttering around and shining their magical light like multicoloured fireflies. Snape noticed none of this but instead was ill temperedly blasting rose bushes apart with his wand and deducting house points from any students he found lingering by the bushes. Much to his annoyance Karkaroff finally caught up with him to have that talk he’d wanted. Karkaroff had noticed the changes in the Dark Mark and wanted Snape’s opinion on it. Snape had no time for the man’s whining, they’d taken the Dark Mark, albeit when they were younger and more foolish, but they had to live with the consequences of their choices. The man was a coward and Snape sent him away with a flea in his ear, telling him that he (Snape) was going to remain at Hogwarts. At that point who should they see but Potter and Weasley, no doubt eavesdropping, but Snape used the opportunity to evade Karkaroff. 

He rushed off down one of the winding paths but stopped abruptly when he saw a familiar figure standing by a fountain and surrounded by colourful fairies. It was as if they were putting on a performance especially for her, they swooped in rainbow unison like a flock of starlings on the evening breeze, and a group would break away and disperse like leaves in the wind, only to reform a short distance away and circle around her in ever changing patterns. She raised her arms and they followed her gestures, as if she was conducting a symphony of colour and motion. Snape took a small step forward but his cloak caught on a rose bush and as he jerked it away the sudden movement caused the fairies to disappear in an instant. 

Azalea turned to the source of the movement and recognised him, “Oh you scared them away, they were so pretty, like real fairy lights. I’m glad I found you; I’ve been looking for you. Why did you leave? You still owe me a dance.”

He walked towards her, his earlier agitation receding. She had looked so beautiful among the fairies, she had sought him out and she still wanted to dance with him. He could hear the strains of the music coming from the Great Hall. The band was still playing slow songs, he didn’t want to waste time going back to the hall so he held out his arms to her and said, “Let’s dance here.” She moved towards him and settled herself into his embrace with his right arm on her back and his left hand lightly holding her right hand; placing her left hand on his shoulder she looked at him saying, “Dancing is the only time I’ll let a man be in charge, so you’d better the most of it!” 

“In that case,” he said, “we need to stand closer” and he pulled her into a tighter hold with their bodies pressed against each other. He started to lead her in a slow waltz around the fountain, using simple steps because he wanted to concentrate on her being in his arms rather than thinking about the dance steps. She followed him quite easily and he was glad she had some knowledge of ballroom dancing, as he knew it was not an area in which muggles were instructed much these days. The song they were dancing to came to an end and a new one began which wasn’t suitable for waltzing. Azalea moved both of her arms so they encircled his neck and he moved his arms down so they both held her around her waist. It was impossible to do any formal steps in this position but he wasn’t concerned about that, he could feel her warm body against his, he could smell her perfume and her hair was gently touching his face. She moved her head and rested it on his shoulder and he pulled her in to a tighter embrace. They remained locked in that position until the song drew to a close.

Azalea then relaxed her hold and pulled back a little, he softened his hold on her and she looked up at him and asked, “Severus, are you doing anything for the rest of the holidays? I mean going away or anything?

“I wasn’t planning to. I thought I’d probably stay here for the holidays. Why do you ask?”

“I’m going back to my house the day after tomorrow, I need to get some winter clothes and visit a few friends. I wondered if you’d like to come with me. My lodgers are both away so we’ll have the house to ourselves. We could go out and celebrate New Year. I don’t think that’s a holiday that wizards particularly celebrate is it? Would you like to?” she asked a little uncertainly.

Her question took him somewhat by surprise. Visit her house? Be immersed in muggle life for several days? He’d never done such a thing. He’d always lived on the fringes of the muggle world preferring the wizard ways. He was tempted to try it out and she would be his guide. If it didn’t work out he could always cut the visit short. The alternative was to stay at Hogwarts supervising his students, he could always delegate that to another member of staff, what was the point in being senior staff if you couldn’t delegate. His other option was to go back to his own house at Spinners End, his cold empty house on a rundown street that was all but deserted by wizards and muggles alike. He made a decision and said firmly “Yes I would like to, I look forward to it.”

A new song had begun and Azalea smiled up at him and settled back into his embrace, tightening her arms around his neck again and felt his grip firm up again around her waist. She didn’t know why she had asked him to visit her house, she hadn’t planned to and she was equally surprised that he had accepted her invitation. She’d think about the detailed arrangements later but for now she wanted to enjoy being in his arms, smelling his masculine scent and, until the music stopped, pretend that there was no one else in the world except the two of them.


	18. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Azalea spend a few days in the muggle world at Azalea's home.

They arrived at the end of a street of similar looking houses. They were both holding on to a battered looking drinks can, which Azalea then took charge of and put it into a bag she pulled from her pocket. “I’ll need this to get back,” she said.

“I could have done a side by side apparation,” Severus said, “then we wouldn’t need the portkey.”

“When I decided to come home for New Year, I didn’t know I’d have company so I’d already arranged for the portkey to be made, it seemed a shame to waste it,” she told him.

He asked a question which had puzzled him just as they had taken hold of the portkey. “Why did you say “beam me up Scotty” when we used the portkey?”

She laughed, “It was a joke,” she said. “That’s a catch phrase in a television programme. I’ve got a video of it somewhere, I’ll show it to you if I remember. When do you think I could learn to apparate, so I won’t have to rely on others for transport?”

“It’s advanced magic which is potentially dangerous so students don’t learn it until they are of age. A ministry wizard comes in to teach it in the spring term so you can join this year’s sixth formers,” he informed her.

They walked about half way down the road and Azalea stopped outside a house with a red door. They went up the short path and she searched around in her bag for the house keys. Opening the door she said, “Welcome to my home.” They entered into a small hallway, there was a set of straight stairs leading to the first floor and two doors off the hall. She dropped her bag on the floor at the bottom of the stairs and indicated for him to do the same with his bag. “I’ll check the bedrooms in a minute” she said “but the first thing is to see how much food there is, we may need to go to the supermarket for supplies.” 

She opened the door at the end of the hall and Severus followed her. It led to a small kitchen with fitted cupboards on all the walls. She opened the refrigerator, looked inside and then closed the door. Selecting a key from the same bunch she had used to open the front door, she unlocked one of the cupboards. “Mmm, I’m a bit low on food, we’ll be here, what 4 or 5 days? So we’ll need enough for that long. My lodgers have left nothing in the fridge that needs using up, so we’ll have to get milk, eggs, butter, bread and something for dinner tonight to be getting on with. Sometimes,” she said wearily, “I wish I didn’t have to take in lodgers, I’d rather not have people in my house but needs must, I suppose, and it least it means that the house is relatively safe when I can’t live in.” She then turned to Severus and asked, “Have you got your own house? Where do you go during school holidays? You don’t live permanently at Hogwarts do you?”

“No,” he replied answering her last question first, “I have my own house, which belonged to my parents. I usually go there during school holidays. Luckily I don’t have to worry about security, it’s well warded and I could apparate there in a second if I needed to.”

“Think how much I’d save on commuting costs if I could apparate everywhere” she mused, “I could live here and wouldn’t need lodgers. I would have to get a job first and I’m leaving that until I’ve finished my time at Hogwarts so it’ll be lodgers for a bit longer! Right, let’s getting going to the supermarket, I’m dying for a proper cup of tea!”

“Why don’t we just conjure up food from the supermarket?” he enquired.

“No, you’re going to have the full muggle experience. Magic is banned!” she said in a light hearted manner so he wouldn’t take offence, “When in Rome.”

“We’re not in Rome, are we?” he questioned in a perplexed way.

“No, of course not. It’s an expression “when in Rome, do as the Romans do” it means you have to fit in with local customs. The first custom is to drive down to the supermarket. Let’s hope my car starts, I haven’t used it since August. Come on,” she ordered him and went outside to where the car was parked in the drive. She opened the car door for him and he sat in the passenger seat while she got into the driver’s seat. She put the key in the ignition and turned it, nothing happened. She tried again, still nothing. “Damn it,” she swore, “the battery’s flat. Luckily I know a spell for that.”

“You just said magic was banned,” he reminded her, “when in Rome – remember.”

“This is a case of “do as I say, not as I do.” Only you’re banned from using magic, unless I want you to do something because I can’t do it, then you can do magic,” she decided.

“That all seems a bit one sided,” he protested.

“Seems perfectly reasonable to me,” she teased. “Anyway let’s get this battery charged, it would take hours if I did it the muggle way with a battery charger, so I’m just being practicable, especially as I really need a cup of tea!” She popped open the bonnet, went to the front of the car and raised the bonnet. She located the car battery, placed her hands on it and said, “Reluminate.” She then returned to the car and this time it started first time. Leaving the engine running, she returned to close the bonnet; Severus followed her out and peered inside the engine compartment. 

“Is this what makes it go?” he asked.

“It’s called the internal combustion engine,” she told him, then briefly pointed out the main components of its construction and how it made the car move.

“I think that apparation is a better way to get about,” he said, “Look at all the smoke that’s coming out of the back of the car and what will happen when all the petrol in the world gets used up?”

“You’ve made two very good points there” she told him, “we muggles are concerned about pollution and using up the world supplies of fossil fuels. We’ll do what we always do and work towards a solution hoping to improve and innovate so that the worst doesn’t happen. But you can’t put the genie back in the bottle and I, for one, would miss the freedom and independence that my car gives me. So let’s get to the supermarket.” She shut the bonnet and they got in the car; she reversed the car out of the drive and set off to the supermarket.

Severus had rarely been in a car and so was unsure whether or not Azalea was a good driver. He didn’t feel anxious as she drove, unlike the few occasions he had used the Night Bus and he’d been in fear for his life. He enjoyed looking out of the window of the car and seeing the street scene, the journey was more comfortable than sitting on a broom and it was pleasant to be protected from the elements. They arrived at the supermarket, parked the car and then Azalea got a trolley. “What do you like to eat?” she asked him.

“I’ll eat most things, I’m not that fussy.”

“How’s your cooking then?”

“Passable.”

“So’s mine. I expect between us we can rustle something up for dinner tonight – using muggle methods, of course.”

“Of course,” he echoed with a wry smile that she noticed and returned. He felt at ease with her gentle teasing and good humour, maybe he would have an enjoyable time after all. 

They went round the shop putting groceries in the trolley, sometimes after a short discussion on meal options. When they arrived at the section where toiletries were located he was astonished to see her piling dozens of bottles of shampoo into the trolley. “Why do you need so much shampoo?” he asked in confusion.

“There’s a bit of a black market at Hogwarts for muggle shampoo,” she explained. “The wizard world does many things well, but making a decent shampoo isn’t one of them. I don’t know what wizard shampoo is made from but it always leaves my hair feeling and looking greasy. Clearly lots of girls think the same and whenever a muggle girl goes home there’s always a big demand for them to bring back shampoo.” Azalea then looked closely at Severus and said, “Why don’t you try it when you next wash your hair?”

“Are you implying that my hair is greasy?” he asked, somewhat offended.

“Well, not to put too fine a point on it, yes I am,” she admitted. “Do you use wizard shampoo?”

“Yes I do; but for you I’ll try this muggle shampoo,” he offered magnanimously not wanting her to feel awkward that she had insulted him. At the same time he thought, why was he so concerned about her sensitivities, normally other people’s feelings were of no interest to him.

They completed the shopping and he helped Azalea pack the groceries into bags at the checkout, thinking that this was something that the shop should do, they charged enough after all. However, Azalea acted as though this was normal, so he assumed it was. They put the bags into the car and Azalea made her way back to the house; as she drove she gave him a running commentary, pointing out places of interest such as the school she used to go to, where she would meet her friends, which pubs were good and which ones should be avoided. He didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation so he relaxed into the seat and let her talk. He liked to listen to her voice; it was musical and soothing to him, washing over him like a familiar melody. 

The next few days were a revelation to Severus. If he had ever experienced living this way he had long forgotten about it. All his life he had lived with fear of violence, suspicion, dislike, hiding his motives and concern about being discovered; it was liberating to feel relaxed and free of worry. He enjoyed Azalea’s company and, as far he could tell she enjoyed his company too, their main concern was how to fill the day. When they were preparing meals they worked companionably alongside each other, in a way he not done with anyone since he and Lily used to work together in the potions class during their early years at Hogwarts. He could now make Azalea a cup of tea in the way she liked it and he took pleasure in such a small thing: - always use freshly drawn water and bring it to the boil, a tea pot was essential and it had to be warmed before the tea was put in it, the water was then poured over the tea whist it was still boiling, leave to brew for 4 minutes, then pour into a cup adding a splash of milk. She drank her tea while it was still piping hot and she finished hers long before his had even cooled down enough to take a sip. He would smile at her when she teased him 20 minutes later that his tea would be stone cold by now and it must be time for the next one.

On the second day of his stay at her house, when he came down to breakfast after having had a shower, she told him that she was going to visit her Aunt Lucy that day and did he want to come with her? He agreed to go. That afternoon shortly before they were about to leave, he noticed Azalea looking at him quizzically and he had asked her what she was looking at. “Did you use the shampoo I bought to wash your hair?” she asked. He acknowledged that he had. 

She then exclaimed, “Ha, I knew it – I was right about your wizard shampoo! Your hair doesn’t look a bit greasy. Go on admit it – muggle shampoo is better than wizard shampoo!”

“All right,” he agreed, “it does seem to have cleaned it better, but now it won’t hang straight. It keeps falling into my eyes.”

“Here let me tie it back for you, so it won’t do that.” She then made him sit down and started to brush it out before tying it back with a band. “There what do you think?” she asked when she’d finished.

He had liked the sensation of her brushing his hair, it was comforting and, in a strange way, sensual. He enjoyed the rhythmic motion of the brush being pulled from the top to the bottom of his hair, how her fingers lightly teased out the strands and gently gathered it into her hands to form a single bunch before tugging it into the band. It never felt like that at the barbers where he had his hair trimmed. When she’d finished he looked into the mirror, without his hair to obscure his face he could see all the imperfections: - the long nose, sallow skin, dark beady eyes and thin lips – he also considered a ponytail to be a girl’s style. Azalea noticed his reaction. “You don’t like it do you?” she said, “Not many men can carry off a ponytail. Personally I think it looks good on you but if you don’t like it then I’ll take it out. Come here.” Once again her hands caressed his hair as she removed the band and re-brushed his hair to smooth it out. “You look good this way too,” she told him, “but maybe you should just get it cut shorter so it doesn’t hang over your face.”

They spent the rest of the day at Lucy’s and Severus tried his best to be sociable, but making small talk had never come easily to him, this in spite of the fact that he had to be an accomplished liar and a good actor to convince people that he was what they expected him to be. At one point during the stay Azalea had revealed to Lucy that Lily’s son, Harry, had not died and was still alive and a pupil at the school where Severus taught. To the immense surprise of both Severus and Azalea, once Lucy had got over the revelation about Harry, she had turned to Severus and asked, “Would this be the wizard school, Hogwarts?”

“How do you know about that?” Azalea had asked in shock.

“I’ve known all along that Lily went to Hogwarts and was a talented witch. It’s not much of a leap of logic that Harry could inherit her talent, especially as his father was a wizard. I take it,” she said speaking directly to Severus, “that you’re a wizard too, if you teach at Hogwarts.” He nodded his assent. “And you, Azalea, this temporary job you have in Scotland, wouldn’t by any chance be at Hogwarts would it?”

Azalea then told Lucy about the arrangement she had at Hogwarts as both teacher and student. “Lucy,” she asked, “if you knew about Hogwarts, why did you never tell me?”

“Your mother knew too,” she answered. “We both saw how upset Petunia was because she couldn’t go to Hogwarts with Lily and we didn’t want you to feel the same, so we thought it best not to tell you unless you showed any sign of magical ability. That begs the question, why has it taken until now for you to show any ability?”

“I don’t know, it’s a mystery,” Azalea had replied.

The following day, Azalea told Severus that the plan for that day was to go swimming with some of her friends at the nearby leisure pool about 15 minutes drive away. Severus could swim but hadn’t packed his swimming trunks. In view of her “no magic” decree she wouldn’t let him conjure them to him and had insisted that they go and buy him a pair. To Severus the styles on offer in the shops were embarrassingly brief but Azalea had quoted “when in Rome” to him and he had acquiesced. Once at the pool he was relieved see that most of the men were wearing similar garb because he’d had a slight suspicion that Azalea was trying to expose him to ridicule. Azalea had come out of the changing rooms in a one piece swimsuit which showed off her figure and he couldn’t help but admire the way she looked. She came up to him and said, “I’ve always thought you’d look good in a pair of Speedos and I’m right.” 

“You look good too,” he told her.

Azalea and her friends acted like children at the pool, squealing and splashing each other when the wave machine was on, going down the flumes screaming more than the ride deserved, or just lazily swimming around when the water was still. After a while Severus lost some of his inhibitions and joined them. He swan up beneath Azalea when she was floating on her back and pulled her under, she gave a sharp scream as she went beneath the water and came up spluttering and coughing. Noticing him grinning she then leapt at him and dragged him down in revenge. They emerged as one with their arms around each other, bodies pressed together and legs entangled. They freed their legs to keep themselves afloat but otherwise stayed together, each looking at the other and relishing the physical contact. They were forced apart when they drifted into the path of a determined swimmer who wasn’t going to change direction for any reason. Severus had never considered swimming to be anything more than something you should be able to do in case it saved your life one day, but now he could see why muggles had made it into a leisure activity and it was with a measure of regret that he left the pool when their session ended. 

Azalea made arrangements with her friends to meet them again on New Year’s Eve to go into town and see the New Year in. She informed Severus that he was coming with them. He was happy to go along with what was suggested and appreciated being free of the responsibility of making decisions.

The next evening he noticed that something on the muggle news programme had caught Azalea’s attention so he watched it with her. It was an item saying that due to good weather conditions the aurora borealis would be particularly spectacular that night and would be visible over a large part of England. “I’ve always wanted to see the Northern Lights,” she said, “but I don’t think we’ll be able to see them this far south.” She then looked at him and commented, “You must have seen them from Hogwarts, they’re often visible in Scotland aren’t they? Although they must be better in Norway.”

“Yes, I’ve seen them occasionally.” Suddenly he was struck by an impulsive idea. “Let’s go and see them now. In Norway. I can apparate us both, we could be there in seconds.”

“It’s supposed to be a magic-free few days,” she said, without much conviction in her voice.

He could see she was tempted. “You made the rules, you can change them. Do as I say, not as I do – isn’t that what you said about the car battery?” 

She didn’t take any more convincing. “Yes let’s do it, I’ll just go and get a winter coat, hat and gloves. Have you got yours with you?”

“Yes,” he lied, intending to summon them while she was fetching hers.

Within minutes they were both dressed in warm coats. “Take my arm” he said, offering it to her, she linked her arm through his and stood close to him in a way that made him feel protective of her and not at all uncomfortable. “My turn to drive now. Ready?” She gave a nervous nod and he prepared himself with the apparating mantra: - destination, determination, deliberation.

They arrived in a land covered in snow. Azalea was clinging to his arm and looking green. “That was awful,” she complained, “it’s worse than one of those white knuckle rides at theme parks. I feel as if I’ve been squashed.” 

“You get used to it, once you’ve done it often enough,” he told her, putting his other arm around her and pulling her into a close hug. She responded by returning his hug. After a few seconds he asked her if she was feeling better.

“Yes, I don’t think I’m going to be sick all over you anymore,” she told him looking up at him with a grin. 

He smiled back and lifted his head so he could look at the sky behind her, “Let’s see what we’ve come all this way for shall we?”

She turned to face the same direction as him and gasped at the beauty of the scene that met her eyes. Dazzling bands of green and blue edged with pink swept majestically across the sky, in slow moving swirls like will o’the wisps floating on a breeze, the streams of colour ebbed and flowed like a delicate seaweed dancing to the tune of the current, the whole scene was so ethereal, the clouds of colour stretching to fill the night sky. Azalea looked back at Severus, her eyes shining, “this is so beautiful; I could watch it all night.”

“We can watch it all night if you want to,” he said, “but let’s make ourselves more comfortable.” With a wave of his wand, he conjured up a seat angled in just the right way so they could look at the sky without craning their necks; he also produced blankets to wrap themselves in before the chill of the air got to them. It was a measure of Azalea’s fascination with the Northern Lights that she neglected to chide him for performing magic. Instead, she sat on the seat, and pulling him down next to her, wrapped them both in the blankets, she then snuggled up to him and continued to watch the wonderful display that nature had put on for them.

Neither of them noticed how much time passed just sitting there but after a while the cold started to seep through. Azalea shifted position and glanced up at Severus who was staring at her intently. She raised her eyebrows in query and as he leaned forwards she stretched up towards him and their lips met, first a light touch but then deepening into a something more meaningful as each tried to convey without words how they felt, both lost in the magic of the moment and in their need for the other to understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted to see the Northern Lights and while researching for this chapter I discovered it's number 1 one on people's bucket list - I'm not as original as I thought!


	19. Auld Lang Syne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea and Severus celebrate New Year and she discovers he has an unexpected talent.

New Year’s Eve found Azalea, Severus and some of Azalea’s friends on a train bound for central London where they were going to see in the New Year. They intended to go to a few pubs and perhaps end up at Trafalgar Square around midnight but they would see how the evening went. The group went from pub to pub; each one more crowded than the one before. Severus wasn’t a heavy drinker, it was too risky for him to let his guard down but in amongst the muggles, he thought it unlikely that anyone would catch him out so he had slightly more to drink than he normally would, and as a consequence was a little more relaxed and talkative than normal. 

Azalea, on the other hand, had been drinking steadily all evening and was being quite forward in grabbing his hand or putting her arm around his waist as they walked to the next destination. Azalea’s friends seemed to assume that they were a couple and neither did anything to deny it. At one point, when Azalea had left Severus on his own for a few minutes, her friend Stuart, whose tongue had been loosened by the amount he had to drink, came up to Severus and told him he was a lucky man. 

“What do you mean, lucky?” Severus asked in what he hoped was a tolerant voice; drunk people annoyed him.

“Leah, of course. I haven’t seen her as keen on anyone since, since...” Stuart paused as if he was about to say too much then finished off, “well, for a long time. It’s nice to see her happy again. For a while we all thought she’d never get over it. But it looks like she has. All I’d say to you is to treat her right or you’ll have us to answer to.” Severus thought that answering to them wasn’t much of a threat, but was Stuart right about Azalea? Did she like him as more than a friend or colleague? True, they had kissed the other night but since then neither of them had referred to it, or tried it again. 

Azalea returned and somehow the group reached a consensus to move on to a karaoke bar, they thought they were all relaxed enough to give it a go. Severus wasn’t quite sure what a karaoke bar was but soon found out. The bar was busy and the group quickly signed up to have a turn at the karaoke machine, Azalea persuaded, or rather coerced, him into putting his name down too. “But I don’t know any muggle songs” he said trying to get out of it. 

“You work with teenagers, so you must know some popular music. Here’s the list, have a look and find one. If I’m doing it, so are you,” she insisted. He took the list from her and scanned down it, there were a few he recognised but then one of them caught his eye, he had heard the Weird Sisters sing it so would probably be able to get by. 

The customers at the bar worked their way down the list of people waiting to sing. The level of background noise in the bar was such that most of the singers couldn’t be heard which was just as well because most of them were awful. Eventually it came round to Azalea’s turn and she went up and did a rendition of “I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll.” To Severus’ surprise she had a passable singing voice, if rather weak, and she managed to hit most of the right notes. Her friends, who had been singing along with her applauded with gusto but otherwise the background sound in the bar remained unchanged. Severus took his place and started on his song choice “More than Words”. He didn’t particularly like to sing in public, but like the others, the small amount of alcohol he had drank that night had given him some courage. Azalea and her friends were the only people there who knew him the majority of people in the pub didn't know who he was; somehow it was easier to sing in front of strangers. He took a deep breath and started to sing. At the opening lines Azalea and her friends looked at him with shock and then broad smiles broke open on their faces and they started to cheer, they were quickly shushed by the other patrons in the bar who were suddenly paying attention to the exceptional singing that was coming over the karaoke machine. Azalea listened along with everyone else to the soulful, smooth voice like velvet singing with perfect pitch and accuracy and putting so much emotion into the words that she could believe he meant it. When he had finished the whole room broke into spontaneous applause and calls for an encore. Severus was surprised by the reaction, but caught up in the wave of approval, he chose another song but this time, rather than a ballad, he decided on an up-tempo song, “Living on a Prayer” which he delivered as a strong, powerful, performance, once again to perfection and had everyone singing along. When he’d finished he left the stage to more applause. Azalea rushed up to him and started babbling questions, “Where did you learn to sing like that? I had no idea you could do that. Why do never sing at school? There’s a school choir isn’t there?” Then she added wistfully, “I tell you, if I’m ever lost all you’d have to do is sing to me and I’d come and find you.”

After Severus’ turn at the karaoke machine all the other contenders were put in his shadow. The night drew on and Azalea’s group came to the conclusion that they would not have time to get down to Trafalgar Square by midnight, so they decided to see in the New Year at the karaoke bar and then move on again. As midnight approached the bar staff began the countdown. The customers formed circles and linked arms in the popular fashion. Severus had Azalea on one side and an attractive blonde woman on the other side. “Three! Two! One!” chorused the crowd and then the chimes of Big Ben could be heard over the loudspeaker, the karaoke machine played out the tune for Auld Lang Syne and the people in the bar began a raucous and, largely out of tune, rendition of the first verse and chorus of the song:

Should old acquaintance be forgot,  
and never brought to mind?  
Should old acquaintance be forgot,  
and auld lang syne?

CHORUS:  
For auld lang syne, my dear,  
for auld lang syne,  
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,  
for the sake of auld lang syne.

 

A few people, Severus included, knew the second verse and his voice rang out above everyone else’s;

And surely you’ll buy your pint cup!  
and surely I’ll buy mine!  
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,  
for auld lang syne.

Then at the next chorus everyone joined in again, shaking their arms up and down where they were holding hands with their neighbour.

For auld lang syne, my dear,  
for auld lang syne,  
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,  
for the sake of auld lang syne.

By mutual consent everyone broke their hold with their neighbour and turned to wish happy New Year to their companions, hugging and kissing anyone in sight, friends kissing friends, strangers kissing strangers. Azalea stretched up and kissed Severus on the cheek before turning to her friends in a round of embraces and kisses. Severus felt a tug on his arm and he was pulled round by the blonde woman who had been next to him, she gave him a drunken kiss on the lips and said in a throaty whisper “I loved your singing.” He was then pulled away from her by another woman who also kissed him and wished him happy New Year, he was passed from woman to woman all saying how they loved his singing. He had never been kissed by so many people in his life or been so much in demand, it started to make him feel uneasy, he lived a low profile life and had always kept in the shade so he would not be noticed. As if feeling his distress, Azalea materialised at his side and put her arm around him, her presence deterred any other attempts at intimate New Year greetings.

Presently, the bar man called the crowd to order so he could announce that night’s winner of the karaoke competition, to no one’s surprise Severus was declared the winner. His prize was some credit at the bar, a medal on a gold ribbon and the chance to sing another song. This time he chose “I would walk 500 miles” and even did a passable Scottish accent as he sung. The crowd joined in drowning him out and he finished the song to rapturous applause. Azalea commented on his song choice, “You’d never have to walk 500 miles anywhere; you’d just apparate and be there in seconds.” 

“So I would,” he agreed.

“By the way,” she said, “you did a pretty good Scottish accent in that song.”

“I haven’t lived in Scotland for over 20 years and not picked up any of the local vernacular, you know,” he told her.

He spent his bar credit on buying a round of drinks for his companions; he had no reason to think he’d ever visit this place again. When they’d finished their drinks, the majority of the group wanted to move on to another bar, but by now Azalea was fading. “You lot go on,” she said, “you know what I’m like, I’ve never been able to stay up all night, I’m going home now. Sev, are you coming with me?”

“Yes,” he said gratefully, he’d had enough a while ago and was only staying because she was. 

Azalea’s friends gave each other knowing nods and winks, which she ignored, and wished them good night before Severus and she set off for the railway station. Azalea had drunk considerably more than she usually did and was finding it hard to concentrate on the route to the railway station but they got there in time to catch the train. She flopped down onto a seat and pulled Severus next to her, “if I fall asleep wake me up when we get to Stevenage,” she told him and rested her head on his shoulder trying to find a comfortable position. Within minutes of the train moving off she was asleep. He put both of his arms around her, to stop her sliding about, and leant his head against hers, remaining in that position until the train arrived at their destination. Waking her gently he helped off the train. “We’ve still got a twenty minute walk home,” she said tiredly.

“I could apparate us there in an instant,” he said.

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” she said, “I think I’d be sick. Is there a wizard saying about not drinking and apparating?”

“Not that I’ve heard, but I can’t say I’ve ever tried it. Come on let’s get walking,” he said steering her in the right direction.

“Can’t we fly?” she asked.

“I haven’t got a broomstick with me, and what about your no magic rule?”

“I can change the rules if I want to,” she said childishly, “and you don’t need a broomstick to fly. See.” With that she rose into the air and floated above his head.

“Come down!” he said sharply, reaching up and pulling her back to the ground, “you can’t let people see you floating in the air and you’re drunk. How did you do that, I didn’t think you had your wand with you?”

“I don’t need a wand to do magic. I am magic,” she announced “but you’re right that I’m a bit drunk too so let’s walk.” She put her arm around his waist and he did the same to her, synchronising their steps they walked together as one unit. The walk home, far from sobering her up, made the alcohol affect her judgement even more than it already had and the closeness of Severus reminded her how long it had been since she had wanted a man the way she wanted this one. 

Back at the house, Azalea informed him, “I’m going to bed and you’re coming with me.” She ushered him up the stairs and into her room, “get into bed” she ordered him, “I’ll be back in a minute,” and she disappeared into the bathroom. She re-appeared a few minutes later stripped down to her underwear and leapt into bed next to him. “Come on,” she said, “you’re still dressed.” She made to remove his shirt. 

Snape was accustomed to taking his pleasure when the opportunity arose but he had never forced himself on an unwilling woman. Azalea was far from unwilling but she was drunk, as she leaned in towards him he could smell the drink on her breath, even though she had cleaned her teeth, the sharp minty smell of the toothpaste blending with the alcohol. He wanted her, he knew that and could feel his body respond to her caresses but he wanted not only her body, he wanted her mind, her heart and her soul, as she surely had his. He had been with women the worse for drink and after the first few times he learned to leave before they woke up. He couldn’t bear to see the look of shame and dismay on their face when they saw him lying next to them in the morning and realised what they had done. He would rather remain celibate for the rest of his life than ever see that look on Azalea’s face. 

He removed Azalea’s hands from his shirt and gently pushed her away, “You’re drunk and you’re tired” he said firmly, “You need to sleep, nothing else.”

“No, I need you,” she whispered, “just you.”

“You can have me, but not tonight,” he said simply.

She stopped trying to undo his shirt and looked at him appraisingly, “Sing to me,” she demanded and lay down next to him.

He smiled at her and sang a lullaby that he remembered from long ago in his past, perhaps his mother had sang it to him when he was a baby, or maybe it was just a well-known song. It was called The Liverpool Lullaby. 

Oh you are a mucky kid,  
Dirty as a dustbin lid  
When he finds out the things you did  
You'll get a belt from your da  
Oh you have your father's nose  
So crimson in the dark, it glows  
If you're not asleep when the boozers close  
You'll get a belt from your da

[ Lyrics from: http://www.cloverlyrics.com/e51604-judy_collins~liverpool_lullaby_lyrics.html ]  
You look so scruffy lying there  
Strawberry jam tats in your hair  
Though in the world you haven't a care  
And I have got so many  
It's quite a struggle everyday  
Living on your father's pay  
The bugger drinks it all away  
And leaves me without any

 

Although we have no silver spoon  
Better days are coming soon  
Now Nellie's working at the loom  
And she gets paid on Friday  
Perhaps one day we'll have a splash  
When Littlewoods provides the cash  
We'll get a house in Knotty Ash  
And buy your dad a brewery

 

Oh you are a mucky kid,  
Dirty as a dustbin lid  
When he finds out the things you did  
You'll get a belt from your da  
Oh you have your father's face  
You're growing up a real hard case  
But there's no one can take your place  
Go fast asleep for Mammy

When he’d finished, he thought about the words he’d just sung and believed it must have been a song his mother had sung to him; it rang too true to his early life. Azalea then interrupted his thoughts and murmured, “That was lovely, if we ever have children you can be in charge of singing the lullabies.”

“OK, “he whispered back, “I will.”

“Do you promise?” she said sleepily.

“I promise,” he assured her. Not that song though, he would never beat his children the way his father had beaten him. His thoughts turned to the possibility of him being a parent. He’d never considered it, having long resigned himself to the idea of being the last of his line. As far as his muggle father’s line was concerned that was good riddance, but his mother had descended from a long line of wizards, who particularly excelled at potion making and that was a talent worth passing on to the next generation. 

Azalea’s soft breathing fell into a regular pattern and he knew she had fallen asleep. He leaned over and moved a lock of hair from her forehead before planting a soft kiss there. He felt warm and tired in her bed and decided to stay there for the night. He settled down next to her and began to fantasise about what their children would look like. The girl would look just like her, soft brown hair, green eyes and an impish face, a child who would disarm him with a smile and twist him round her little finger. The boy would have his father’s dark hair (washed with muggle shampoo), his mother’s nose and her joy of life; no one would try to torment him. His children would be raised in atmosphere of love, not fear, they would never want for anything. With these thoughts of a possible future running through his head he fell asleep beside the woman who he believed was going to change his life for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it would be nice if Snape had another talent as well as just potion making and I chose singing. The songs I used are those that were around in the mind 1990s which is contemporary with when the books were written. When I wrote this chapter I listened to a lot of Absolute 80s and 90s radio for ideas! The lullaby is a traditional song.


	20. Beam Me up Scotty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old memories make Severus question himself.

Azalea woke up late; she looked at the clock and saw it was well into the afternoon. She had a headache and the inside of her mouth felt like it was coated with cotton wool. She turned over and noticed that she was not alone in the bed; Severus was still there. He hadn’t yet awoken and she studied him. He looked so peaceful asleep, his face relaxed with no trace of the scowl he usually wore when he faced the world. He must have felt her watching him because his eyes opened and he turned to face her, still with traces of sleep on his face.

“Good morning,” she said in greeting, “or rather good afternoon. We’ve slept half the day away.”

“We were awake half the night, so I think we can have a lie in today.” He then added in a slightly indignant voice, “Were you watching me wake up?”

“Yes, I was. Can’t I look at my boyfriend first thing in the morning?”

“Boyfriend?” he sounded surprised.

“Yes.”

“Does that make you my girlfriend then?” he asked suspiciously.

“That’s the way these things usually work. Do you think of me as your girlfriend?” she responded, beginning to regret bringing up the subject.

“It just makes us sound like a couple of teenagers. There should be a more grown up word than boyfriend or girlfriend.”

She noticed he hadn’t denied she was his girlfriend, so took some comfort from that and carried on being honest, “but you make me feel like a teenager, I get butterflies in my stomach, I want to touch you all the time, thinking about you makes me smile, just being with you makes me happy.” She had been watching him while she was talking and noticed his face took on an aspect of alarm, realising she had probably said too much she abruptly changed tack. “Do you know what a good boyfriend would do now?” Without giving him time to reply she carried on talking, “he’d make his hung over girlfriend a cup of tea just the way she likes it!”

He smiled at her (in relief she thought), got out of bed and went to the kitchen to make the tea. I’m so stupid, she thought, that’s a sure way to scare someone off – tell them how you feel too soon in the relationship. Have we even got a relationship? I’m seeing something that isn’t even there. I do wish he would smile more, it lights up his face and his eyes shine like dark rich honey. 

Severus was in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil, thinking about what she had said. It had taken him by surprise but he knew exactly what she meant. He also felt like a teenager when she was around. Never mind butterflies in his stomach, his was full of dragons when she was near. He liked her to stand close to him, he who hated people invading his personal space, he wanted to reach out and touch her, any excuse to be near her. She made him feel – what? He realised that she just made him feel. All his feelings for years had been negative – dislike, jealousy, guilt, remorse, fear. She had swept into his life and opened up a door that had been closed for years; she had found a key to his heart and it was filling up with emotions he could barely believe or understand. 

He took the cup of tea up to her and noticed that she had put a T-shirt over the underwear she had slept in all night and was sitting up in the bed. She thanked him for the tea and sipped it gratefully. He got back in the bed next to her and put his tea on the bedside cabinet to cool down before he could drink it. Azalea had nothing in particular planned for the day so they got up, showered and had something to eat. Azalea was feeling hung over so limited her food to toast. They decided to take a walk with the dual purpose of buying some milk and hoping that the exercise and fresh air would clear Azalea’s head. Severus had no such problem with a hangover and lectured her on the evils of drink and how her hangover was self-inflicted. She listened to the lecture without rancour and insisted that she was not a habitual drinker, despite the over indulgence the previous night. “What about you and Filius at the Triwizard feast?” he reminded her.

“That was ages ago, and I seem to recall you lecturing me on that occasion too,” she said.

“I’ve seen how excessive drink affects people. My father was a heavy drinker,” he confided in her, “and it turned him into a monster. I would hate you to follow the same path”

“That will never happen to me, I promise. I just like to let my hair down now and again, it relaxes me, you should try it some it time,” she suggested.

“Yesterday was the most I’ve drank at any one time for years and I won’t be doing it again for many more years,” he replied.

“Good, that means you can always do the driving when we go out and I can have a few glasses of wine, but not too excess” she added quickly.

He liked the idea that they would be going out again. He’d have to learn to drive first but how hard could that be? After all, muggles could do it.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly, they talked about nothing and everything; they did some proof reading; they drank tea; they made dinner together - once again working seamlessly side by side. When they’d finished eating the evening meal Azalea remembered that she was going to show him a video to explain her “beam up Scotty” comment when they’d used the port key. She took a video tape labelled “Star Trek” from the shelf. “I recorded these from the television ages ago,” she said, “there are a few episodes on here and they may not include the actual phrase, but you should get the idea.” She put the tape in the video player and snuggled down next to him on the sofa, the remote control in her hand. She pressed start and the tape clunked into life. The opening phrases of the programme began “Space: The final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. Its 5 year mission to explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no man has gone before.”

“Shouldn’t it be “to go boldly?” queried Severus.

Azalea playfully thumped him on the arm, “Don’t you start; there have been endless debates over that. Now watch the programme.”

The theme music cut in but after a few bars the screen went fuzzy and the picture faded to be replaced by a view of a suburban street that was nothing to do with Star Trek. “Oh someone’s taped over this,” complained Azalea. She held up the remote control about to fast forward over the offending images when a woman walked into the street scene and faced the camera. Azalea took a sharp intake of breath as she recognised the woman on the screen. 

Severus turned towards Azalea, “What’s the matter?” he enquired.

“That’s my mother!” she gasped.

Severus looked at the woman on the screen. She was probably only a few year’s older than Azalea was now and he could see the family resemblance. The same green eyes, same light brown wavy hair but Azalea’s other facial features differed from her mother’s - they were finer and more refined. The camera zoomed in towards one house. Azalea’s mother spoke to the camera, “That’s the house where we’re heading, to celebrate a very special birthday.”

Azalea studied the house, “That’s where my Aunty Rose lived. She and my uncle bought a smaller house after their daughters got married. I didn’t go there that often” she said. Another person came into view on the screen; Azalea let out a yelp and screamed with laughter. “That’s me – look – I was into my punk fashion phase! Didn’t I look a mess? I thought I was so rebellious dressing like that but Mum let me get it out of my system and no lasting harm was done to my fashion sense.” She turned to Severus and said with a smile, “I still don’t have any!”

The next shot on the video tape was in a small garden which was full of people, mostly adults. A male voice came from behind the video camera, “Leah, aren’t you going to tell me who everyone is?”

The young Leah on the tape bounced around the garden, going up to people and forcing them to be introduced to the camera. “This is my aunty and uncle, the proud grandparents, this is Petunia, Vernon and their little boy, Dudley, these people are the next door neighbours – we had to invite them so they wouldn’t complain about the noise – (the neighbours laughed and made a gesture of putting their hands over their ears), this is my granny and granddad, over here is the birthday boy.” At this point in the tape Leah ran over towards a tall handsome man with black hair who was holding a young child and she continued the introductions “this is Harry, the baby that is, not the vain idiot who’s holding him.” 

The man so described laughed and introduced himself to the camera, “the vain idiot is Sirius, who is Harry’s godfather.” Then he spoke to Leah,” I may be vain but at least I haven’t dressed myself in torn black clothes with chains hanging off them and dyed my hair bright red. Here, hold your godson - I’m off to find the beer!” 

Leah took Harry who was immediately captivated by the chains hanging off her outfit and grabbed them, twisting them round his pudgy hands. The camera followed Leah, carrying Harry, around the garden as she found more people to face the camera. “This is Lily’s friend, Mary, this is Remus and Peter, who are James’ friends.” Over in one corner were some older people who Leah dismissed with “I don’t know who they are – I think they’re teachers from Lily’s school” she then added in a loud stage whisper to the camera, “it’s a bit rich of Sirius to criticise the clothes I’m wearing – look at the strange gear they’re in!” Leah spotted a couple coming out of the house and ran over to them saying “and here are James and Lily – parents of this little monster who’s now got himself caught up in my chains. Lily – untangle your son before he ruins my entire look!” 

Lily laughed and replied to her cousin, “Your look was a ruin long before Harry got involved.”

Leah chided Lily in mock outrage, “Lily you wound me with your criticism, just because you’re an old married woman who dresses in tweeds doesn’t mean that the rest of us have to be!”

James then joined in the banter and addressed his wife, “Tweeds - now that’s a thought. I bet you’d look sexy even in tweeds.”

By now Lily had untangled Harry from Leah’s chains and was holding him close. The camera focussed in on her gazing at her son in an undisguised expression of love.

The remainder of the video was a montage of clips from the gathering, people standing in groups, eating and drinking, along with a buzz of background conversation. The birthday cake was brought out with one candle stuck in the middle and every one sang happy birthday. Lily placed Harry on the floor and gave him some cake and the tape came to an end with him messily eating birthday cake with his fingers.

Azalea paused the tape and turned to Severus saying, “I’ve never seen this video before, in fact, I’d forgotten that it was even made. Mum must have copied it. She’s been dead for about 10 years so it shows how often I’ve watched the Star Trek tapes doesn’t it?” Severus did not appear to have heard her and made no response. Now she came to think about it, when he’d seen Sirius on the tape she had felt his body tense up and when Lily and James came into view he had moved away from her completely so that they were not touching at all. She realised that something was wrong. She remembered that he would probably have known Lily and James, they were about the same age as him and must have been at school together, perhaps seeing this scene from the past had been almost as much of a shock to him as it was to her. She said quietly, “Sev, are you all right?”

He turned round angrily and stared at her, his face black as thunder, and hissed “Don’t you ever call me that again, only Lily calls me that.” He then stood up from the sofa, his face still furious, and with a loud crack he apparated away.

Azalea remained on the sofa in stunned surprise, what was that about? Where had he gone and why? She called his name “Severus!” No response. She went to see if he had gone to his room, he hadn’t. Neither was he in any other room or outside. She had no way of knowing where he was and no way of following him even if she had known. 

Severus appeared outside his own home at Spinner’s End. The isolation and neglect of the area suited his mood. He reached for his wand to remove the wards from his house so he could get inside, his wand wasn’t in the usual place and he realised he had left it in his room at Azlaea’s house. Her stupid “no magic rule” had caused this. Now how was he to get indoors? His only option was to go back and get his wand but he didn’t want to see her and listen to her questioning him on where he had been and why he had walked out. Maybe he could reach one of the upper windows where the wards were less strong but he could only get there if he could fly and he needed his wand or a broomstick to do that. Unbidden, the memory of Azalea levitating the previous night came to his mind and she had flippantly commented that she didn’t need a wand because she was magic. He had seen her recharge the car battery without her wand so maybe there was some truth in her assertion. Self-consciously, he concentrated on releasing the wards on the front door and stretched out his hand to focus any magic through it, he said the ward release incantation aloud as this was easier than sub vocalising. He felt the familiar sensation of magic accumulate in his body, stream out through his hand and the ward on the door released. He was amazed that it had worked and he entered his house. 

Inside it was dark and cold, in complete contrast to the house he’d been staying at for the past few days but, he reminded himself, that was how he liked his house, only maybe not quite this cold. He tried the wandless magic again and managed to start the fire. He made himself a cup of tea and it was only when he was drinking it that he was aware he had prepared it the way Azalea had instructed him. Damn the woman, how had she managed to influence him? He sat drinking the tea (there was no point in wasting it) and thought about the video he had just watched. It had been a complete shock to him to see Lily alive and moving; her radiant beauty and vitality shining out for all to see. The look on her face when she’d disentangled Harry from the chains had touched something buried deep inside him - a long cherished hope that one day she would look at him like that. Now she was dead and he would never see it and her death was his fault. His fault! His task now was to protect her son, however much he personally disliked him. He could feel that the power of the Dark Lord was increasing and he had to stay alert to that. He had allowed himself to be distracted by Azalea. How could that have happened? She was poison to him, just like the plant she was named after. Lily was the only woman he would ever love, the only woman for him – always. He had got his priorities wrong and now he would have set them right again. He’d go back to Azalea’s house, fetch his clothes and spend the rest of the holiday here at Spinners End. 

After a couple of hours brooding he apparated straight to his room at Azalea’s house and started to collect his belongings together. He located his wand which speeded up the packing considerably and he hoped to be gone without Azalea noticing his return. That did not happen, she heard him as soon as he came back and came into the room.

“Severus,” she began nervously, “please tell me what’s wrong.”

He hardened his attitude towards her, boosted by the picture of Lily he still had in his mind, “What’s wrong? That’s easy – you’re what’s wrong.”

She looked at him with the hurt showing in her eyes, green eyes like Lily’s had been, “but we’d been getting on so well? You mean a lot to me, surely you know that? I thought I meant something to you.”

He rounded on her and snapped a vicious response, “You thought wrong then. You mean nothing to me, forget the past few days ever happened. It was a huge mistake me coming here, I want nothing more to do with you or your muggle ways.”

He saw something in her change, anger crossed her countenance and for split second he was sure he saw a real flash of red flicker in her eyes. Her anger appeared to go as quickly as it came. Instead she took a deep breath and said, “Before you go I have something to give you, wait here for a minute.” She returned shortly and handed him something, not waiting for a reply she left the room. At once he apparated back to Spinners End with no further communication between them. When he arrived he looked at what she had given him. It was a muggle photograph of Lily taken at some exotic location; she was relaxed and smiling broadly at the camera with golden sand and a blue ocean in the background behind her. He turned over the photograph and on the back was written in Lily’s handwriting, “Wish you were here, all my love Lily.” Severus held the photograph to his heart and acknowledged that Azalea was far more astute than he had given her credit for.

Meanwhile, Azalea had returned to her seat on the sofa and was re-watching the video. It pained her to see all those people she had known and loved and who were now all dead; her mother, her grandparents, her aunt, her uncle, Lily and James. She thought about Severus and his reaction to it. After he’d gone for the first time and his comment about only Lily could call him Sev, a thought had struck her like a bolt of lightning that Severus had been in love with Lily. Of course, everyone had loved Lily but she realised that it ran deeper with Severus. The tragedy was that Lily would never have fallen in love with Severus, he simply wasn’t handsome enough for her to be attracted to in that way. Azalea knew that Severus would not believe her if she told him that. Azalea would never accuse her cousin of being shallow and interested only in looks but she knew the type that Lily liked and Severus simply wasn’t it. On the other hand, in her favour, Lily wouldn’t have strung someone along just because she could.

Azalea thought about the past few days with Severus. She recalled her wanton behaviour last night and it was only Severus’ restraint which had stopped her. He obviously didn’t find her attractive enough, he must have realised it would have been a one night stand and had acted to save them both embarrassment when back at school. Yet in the days before when they had been swimming, saw the Northern Lights and even the New Year celebrations she was sure that they were getting closer. Now that was all gone, swept away with the reminder of things past and things that would not now happen. 

The video tape had continued to play and was now showing an episode of Star Trek. Azalea gave a short burst of ironic laughter as the scene showed Captain Kirk saying “Scotty, beam us up” and he disappeared from the planet’s surface and re materialised in the ship’s transporter bay. “That’s what I wish I could do” Azalea said aloud to the empty room, “Beam me up, Scotty. Beam me up and make me forget.” As she spoke she looked at the item she had in her hand; the item that had fallen out of the picture frame from which she had removed the photograph of Lily that she had given to Severus. As she turned it over absently in her hand she resolved that she would treat the last few days with Severus as she would treat a holiday romance – nice while it lasted but best forgotten and forgotten quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that in the books Lily wrote to Sirius saying that they had had a quiet birthday for Harry’s first birthday. I interpreted this as a quiet wizard birthday – I’m sure Harry’s muggle grandparents would have wanted a celebration!


	21. Two Little Chats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Half giants, morning runs, visits to the owlery, apparation lessons and talks with Dumbledore – life goes on for Azalea and Severus.

Azalea and Snape returned separately to Hogwarts in time for the start of term. Azalea continued with her lessons in accordance with the existing timetable. She had considered changing potion’s teachers to avoid being in Snape’s class but if she had done that then people may enquire as to the nature of their falling out. Since nobody had been aware they had ever had a falling in she thought it better to avoid the question altogether. What Snape thought of her continued presence in his class only he knew. 

The first day of term was overshadowed by a newspaper article in the Daily Prophet describing Hagrid as a half-giant. Azalea could not understand the prejudice that the wizards showed towards him. People should be judged on their own merits and not by those of their ancestry. She went down to his house the day the article came out to try to speak to him but he wouldn’t open the door. The next day she got up earlier than normal to have a morning run; her New Year’s resolution having been to take more exercise. The route of that day’s run went close to Hagrid’s house. She knew he was an early riser so she knocked on the door on her way past but he still didn’t answer. For the next couple of weeks she tried his door every time she went by. Finally he came to the door, dressed for work. 

“Hagrid, it’s great to see you!” she exclaimed when he answered the door. She pressed on with what she had to say without the usual pleasantries, “I want you to know that I don’t believe that rubbish that the Daily Prophet printed about you and I’m still your friend.”

“I am a half giant, th’ Prophet got tha’ bit right,” he clarified.

“Well, that still doesn’t matter to me” Noticing that he was dressed in his usual game keeper clothing she asked, “Are you going back to work today?” she asked.

“Yeh, I am. I gotta check on th’ animals in th’ forest and I can’t let me care of magical creatures’ students down can I?” he said as he closed the door to the cottage behind him.

“Good luck then and don’t let the bastards grind you down,” she said to which he smiled and gave her a bear hug before walking with her whilst he set off for his game keeping duties in the forest.

Up in the owlery turret, Snape was looking in the direction of Hagrid’s hut. The sun had been up for less than an hour and in its watery, wintery light he could see the overnight frost still on the grass. Etched into the brittle white grass were a set of footprints which had crushed every stem they had landed on. He was at the owlery ostensibly to check if an owl had arrived with details of his latest order from Dervish and Banges. He had visited the owlery far more often than he really needed to once he noticed that from here he could see anyone who chose to take an early morning run. He was contemplating the patterns the footprints made in the grass when he heard a noise behind him, turning round he saw the headmaster. “Good morning, Severus,” Dumbledore greeted him cordially, “you’re up early this morning. Are you expecting an owl?”

“I wanted to see if Dervish and Banges had replied to my owl but clearly they haven’t. I’ll bid you good morning,” Snape replied quickly then hurried down the steps.

Dumbledore moved to where Snape had been standing and looked in the same direction Snape was gazing with such intent. The order from Dervish and Banges must be important if Snape was checking in the owlery rather than waiting for the breakfast delivery. A movement in the near distance caught Dumbledore’s eye and he looked more closely, from the woods emerged a slight female figure in a muggle style running outfit, she was jogging at a brisk pace and turned to wave at someone still concealed within the trees, she headed in the direction of the castle and continued the run until she was back indoors. Dumbledore had recognised her as Miss Bennett and decided that a chat with her about how she was settling in was long overdue.

 

The next day, being a Saturday, was the start of the instruction in apparation and Azalea arrived in good time. Since it was not raining the lesson was to take place outside, otherwise the Great Hall was used. There was a gaggle of sixth formers waiting expectantly and Azalea greeted the ones she knew, mostly from her exercise classes, although she also recognised the class clowns – the Weasley twins – who were already engaged in sibling rivalry about who would be the first to apparate successfully. Accompanying the four heads of houses was a wizard that Azalea had not seen before, he was a bony colourless looking man, with thin hair, pale eyelashes and translucent skin. Professor McGonagall introduced him as Wilkie Tycross, the apparation instructor from the Ministry of Magic. He briefly thanked Professor McGonagall and then launched into the instructions for the class. He told the students to stand about five feet apart from each other, he waved his wand and a hoop appeared in front of each student. “The secret of apparation is the three Ds” he said, “Destination, Determination, Deliberation.” He indicated their hoops, “these are your destination, visualise them, next focus your determination to occupy your destination, thirdly feel your way into nothingness with deliberation. Now after the count of three try it. One, two, three!”  
Azalea visualised her hoop and focussed onto it, she felt nothingness cloud her mind and carefully, deliberately thought about moving into the hoop. She felt the same crushing feeling that she had felt when she apparated with Severus to Norway and that caused a minor distraction in her concentration. The nothingness cleared from her mind and she was standing in the hoop but her right arm was lying outside of it. She let out a terrified scream of pain and anguish, in an instant the heads of houses surrounded her, they all pointed their wands at her, there was a puff of purple smoke and her arm was reattached. She was trembling with fright and agitation and seeing a friendly face; she threw her arms around Filius and clung to him for comfort and support. In the background she could hear Tycross saying “That was an example of splinching, or the separation of random body parts. You must remember the three Ds.”

Azalea detached herself from Filius and rounded angrily on the instructor, “You knew this might happen! You knew and you didn’t warn us. What would happen if my head had become detached? Would I have died?”

Tycross regarded her in a patronising manner, “It’s very rare for a head to become detached, it’s usually just limbs for beginners.”

“Usually? Usually!?” she shouted her voice rising with each word. “And what happens if you apparate into a solid object? What happens if more than one student splinches at the same time – are there enough helpers to fix them back together? And another thing” she added, warming to the subject, “Why don’t you do a side by side apparation with the students before you get them doing it alone? At least they’d have an idea what it feels like?” Then she noticed the expressions of the instructor and the heads of houses and said sharply, “Don’t any of you dare say this is a typical muggle over reaction!” She could tell that some of them were indeed thinking that, so she hurried on talking specifically in a raised voice to Tycross “Haven’t you ever heard of “forewarned is forearmed?”

Snape then intervened, saying sharply, “Miss Bennett that’s enough!”

Azalea rounded on him and shouted “Enough? I haven’t even got started yet!” 

This time Snape was certain he saw a red flash in her eyes. He wasn’t the only one. A voice came from where the students had been watching Azalea’s melt down, “Hey, Azalea how do you make your eyes flash like that?”

The non-sequitur comment took the wind out of her sails and her anger deflated in an instant. She looked at the speaker, Fred Weasley, and said “What do you mean - eyes flashing?”

“Exactly what I said, your eyes flash real red sparks when you’re angry. It’s pretty cool.”

“Do they? I never knew that but I don’t watch myself in the mirror when I’m angry,” she said calming down.

Professor McGonagall, picking up on the change of atmosphere, interjected, “Mr Tycross, I believe it would be a good idea if we were to do side by side apparation with each student to help them to understand how it should feel when they apparate correctly.”

Tycross agreed to give it a try if only to make the woman who had been splinched stop haranguing him.

Azalea showed a marked reluctance to try a side by side apparition fearing the worst. Fred called over to her, “Come on Azalea, there’s no ‘arm in trying.” 

George’s immediate riposte was “Go out on a limb Azalea.”

To which Fred countered “Go on, it’s ‘armless.”

Jollied out of her fear Azlaea laughed along with them and said, “I’d shoot you both for those puns if I wasn’t already unarmed.”

The heads of houses and Tycross paired up with students to show them what the sensation of apparating felt like. Azalea had apparated when Snape had taken her to Norway so she held back to be in the last group. Filius volunteered to take her and she was grateful for his calm presence and re-assurance. Once every one had experienced a side by side apparation, the students tried apparating on their own again. Azalea and several other students, including Fred and George, succeeded in reaching their hoops with all their limbs attached. Twycross reluctantly admitted to himself that the idea of pairing up to experience a side by side apparation had been a good one and he wished he’d thought of it years’ ago.

 

Azalea sat in the Headmaster’s office which she had not been to since the day after she arrived. It appeared to be unchanged; there were still a lot of objects whose function she didn’t know on various surfaces and the portraits of the former head teachers were feigning disinterest in the conversation. Dumbledore offered her a cup of tea which she politely accepted although it wasn’t really to her taste.

“Miss Bennett,” began Dumbledore, “I’ve been very remiss in not talking to you much since you’ve arrived, the Triwizard competition has been demanding my attention. How are you settling in?”

“Remarkably well, considering that I didn’t even know the wizard world existed until a few months ago,” she replied, “The staff, in particular, have been very accommodating to my rather unusual circumstances and the students seem to be getting used to me as both fellow student and teacher.”

“Yes, I understand your exercise class is well attended,” he commented.

Azalea gave a short laugh, “Yes it is. Between you, me and the gatepost, I think the main attraction is because the students get to see each other wear close fitting, short exercise clothes, sometimes there’s more ogling going on than jogging.”

“Hmm, that aside, how are you getting on with your studies, most of the teachers tell me you pick things up quickly?” he asked her.

“Yes, I do,” she agreed “I only have to be told a spell once and I can remember it. It’s as if I have an eidetic memory for magic but I’ve never had that for anything else, it would have been helpful when I was studying for exams in the past. I suppose,” she mused, “it might be connected to the colours.”

“Colours?” Dumbledore asked curiously, “what colours?

“You know, the colour of magic. How each spell has its own distinctive range of colours and enchanted objects glow. I’ve often wondered why the teachers don’t use the colours to help explain the spell to the students,” she said in a matter of fact way, before taking a sip of her tea.

Dumbledore stared at her with incredulity. “That would be because most people can’t see the colours. It’s extremely rare. I’ve lived a long time and I’ve only ever come across one other person who could see the colours,” he told her.

“Does that mean I’m doubly weird?” she asked somewhat bitterly, “I’ve got magical synaesthesia as well as an eidetic memory for spells.”

“Not weird,” he replied gently, “unique.”

“Who’s the other person you know who could see the colours?” she enquired.

“My sister, Ariana” he responded with a sad note to his voice.

“Can I talk to her about it?” Azalea asked eagerly, “it would be helpful to share experiences.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, she died when she was young. I wish I’d taken her seriously about seeing the colours. If I’m honest I never really believed her, she was ill and prone to flights of fancy,” he explained.

Azalea had the impression that there was more to his sister’s story but she didn’t want to pry into other people’s family history. However, she had no such qualms about raising her concerns about her own family business. “Professor, you must have heard by now that Harry Potter is my cousin.”

Dumbledore noted her change of direction and had a feeling he knew where this was leading, “Yes, I am aware of that,” he confirmed cautiously.

He was right, she exploded into a passionate outpouring. “And it was you who left him with Petunia and Vernon when he was a baby. Why did you do that? My mother and I would have looked after him in an instant. He would have been my little brother and his life would have been very different, he would have been loved and cherished and fed and clothed decently. Did you even know that Lily had an aunty and a cousin? Or even James’ family – surely they would have been a better choice that Petunia and Vernon? Do you know Petunia and Vernon told me Harry was dead in the car crash with his parents? They wouldn’t speak to me or let me into the house and told me never to contact them again. If I’d known they had Harry I’d have moved heaven and earth to get him away from them.”

Dumbledore waited until she had finished, “I had my reasons,” he said, “Harry had to stay with Petunia and that was the decision I made.”

“What reasons could possibly be good enough to subject a child to years of neglect?” she countered.

“Miss Bennett,” he said sharply, “I don’t intend to divulge my thinking on the matter to you. You must accept that what I did was in the best interest of Harry’s safety.”

“Unlike your staff and students, I don’t accept things “just because you say so”,” she said sarcastically, “what you did was wrong.”

He sighed and responded in determined voice, “What is done is done. This matter is now closed and is not for discussion.”

Azalea knew she would get no more from him but she was still fired up with a sense of injustice, so she left that subject and changed tack. “All right, if that matter is closed then I’ll air my concerns about another one – sorting. Why do you sort the children into houses based upon their character traits? Surely you’re labelling them at too young an age, people change, especially developing young minds. Sorting them in this way can re-enforce negative characteristics as well as positive ones. There must be a better way.”

Dumbledore was unused to people questioning his reasons for doing things and he still hadn’t yet broached the subject he really wanted to talk to her about so he said in a conciliatory tone, “You make some good points, Miss Bennett, I’ll take it under advisement.”

Azalea knew when she was being given the brush off but she had made her point and never really expected him to change anything straight away. She hoped he really would think about it.

Dumbledore returned to the earlier topic of conversation, “How are your studies going, do you get on well with the teachers and students?”

“Some more than others, just like anywhere,” she answered.

“You seem on particularly good terms with Filius and Charity,” he commented blandly.

“And Hagrid,” she supplied, “he’s a drinking buddy with Filius and me. Charity’s not so keen on the Three Broomsticks but we get together a lot to talk about the lesson plans, which inevitably leads onto other things.”

“What about Professor Snape, do you get on well with him?” asked Dumbledore, watching her carefully to see her reaction to his question.

“I don’t have much to do with him outside of the potions lesson” she replied with no detectable reaction that Dumbledore could see, “but I think he’s a square peg in a round hole.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He’s a capable teacher but he clearly dislikes teaching. I wonder why he stays here?” she said looking straight at Dumbledore with a bland expression on her face, “I’m sure he’d be better off in the commercial sector, inventing or improving potions for mass production.”

“Have you suggested it to him?” he enquired.

“I don’t think he’d take career advice from a student,” she replied caustically.

“No indeed not. I’m sure if he were unhappy in his job then he wouldn’t stay,” Dumbledore commented.

Although the conversation about Snape had been short, Dumbledore could see no reaction from her which indicated anything other than a student’s natural curiosity about a teacher. He knew himself to be good at reading people’s body language so he concluded that if there was any attraction between Miss Bennett and Snape it would appear to be only on Snape’s part. He should have a few words with Snape to remind him of his priorities and his commitment to the mission.

 

Snape sat in Dumbledore’s office. Dumbledore offered him a cup of tea which he politely accepted. It didn’t taste as good as the way he now drank it. Snape was in the Headmaster’s office for one of his “little chats”. Snape cynically believed that Dumbledore liked to speak to him from time to time to remind him of the terms of their agreement, made over a decade ago, which was that Dumbledore would keep him out of Azkaban, provided that Snape continued to work at Hogwarts to protect Potter and, when the time came, to spy on Voldemort and the Death Eaters. 

Dumbledore started the conversation in his genial way, “How are you getting on with Karkaroff and the Durmstrang boys? It must be nice to meet up with old friends.”

Snape replied lazily, “He’s hardly an old friend, he’s panicking and keeps seeking my re-assurance about past events and rumours that the Dark Lord is rising.”

Dumbledore leaned forwards and spoke earnestly, “You know I believe these rumours are true that Voldemort is rising. I worry about Harry’s safety. You must be alert to any danger, you owe it to Lily.”

“It doesn’t help me to protect him when he is in the Triwizard competition. Headmaster, how could you have let him enter?” he snapped at Dumbledore.

“I can assure you I had nothing to do with it.” Seeing that Snape was about to interrupt him, Dumbledore added assertively, “Neither did Harry. Someone else put his name in and I can only believe it was the work of Voldemort or a Death Eater.”

“How can I look out for him when he’s competing?” Snape complained, “You know that the rules of the game forbid any outside help when he’s actually doing the task.”

“He’s perfectly safe from Voldemort while he’s on the course. The game arena is warded and protected – the best wizards in the Ministry of Magic have been working on it,” Dumbledore assured him.

“I hope you’re right,” Snape said, not completely convinced.

Dumbledore changed the subject, “I spoke to Miss Bennett the other day, just to see how she was settling in.”

“That must have been a delight,” Snape responded sarcastically.

“Indeed it was, she’s a charming young woman, although very forthright in her views. She thought you were in the wrong job. “A square peg in a round hole” were her exact words. I do like some of these muggle expressions. Of course, she doesn’t know your history. How are you getting along with her? You remember on the first day she came I said you should find out all you can about her,” Dumbledore asked conversationally.

“I found out she was Potter’s cousin. I was surprised you didn’t know that already,” Snape replied.

“I can’t know everything, Severus. Is there anything else you can tell me about her?” Dumbledore studied Snape’s reaction to the question.

Snapes first thoughts were; she can make perfect potions with a wave of her hand; she can silence crowds with a shout; she can do magic without a wand; she sees the colour in magic; she learns a spell perfectly first time; she can fly without a broom; she is the most remarkable witch I’ve ever met - but she is not Lily.

After a pause which went on longer than it should have, Snape finally answered, “No, nothing. She’s an able student, she studies a lot, her handwriting is abysmal, she gets on well with the other students and she’s particularly friendly with Granger. You should ask Filius and Charity about her, she’s on better terms with them than she is with me.” He stopped talking and against his better judgement he added, “Why are you interested in her?” 

“You know I’m interested in all my staff and students,” Dumbledore explained. He picked up a document from his desk and started to study it. Snape knew this was to signify that the interview was at an end. Dumbledore spoke again without taking his eyes from the document which now had his attention, “Oh, and Severus, you no longer have to find out all you can about her, I’ll speak to Filius and Charity as you suggest.” As Snape rose to leave Dumbledore lifted his eyes from the document and remarked, “Lily would have been so grateful to you for looking out for her son and wouldn’t want you distracted from your purpose.”

Snape turned and faced Dumbldore, “I’m never distracted where Lily is concerned,” he said fiercely.

“That’s good to hear. You know you have my complete confidence and trust in this matter, don’t you Severus?” Dumbledore said calmly, his blue eyes looking serenely at Snape.

“Yes Headmaster, I know it. Now please excuse me I have work to do.” Snape retreated to the door and left the room. 

Although Snape’s face had betrayed no emotion that Dumbledore could discern when he was talking about Azalea, the pause before he had replied “no, nothing” did not go unnoticed by the headmaster. Dumbledore remained seated with a vague feeling of unease that Snape may yet forget where his priorities lay.


	22. The Second Task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second task isn’t much of a spectator event, Charity and Azalea exchange histories. Azalea shows Harry the video.

It was 24th February and the day of the second Triwizard Task. The task started after breakfast and the whole school had the morning off to watch the event. Azalea followed every one outside walking down to the lake where it was to take place. The stands from the first task had been re-assembled and were now ranged around the edge of the lake. It was a bright spring morning but chilly nonetheless with a stiff breeze blowing down from the mountains. The light from the sun reflected off the uneven surface of the lake like a glass pane shattered into pieces. The crowd was getting impatient because one of the champions, Harry, had not yet arrived. The other champions were waiting by the judges’ table. Azalea had looked around for Hermione and Ron among the crowd but couldn’t see them either. She noticed a figure running hell for leather across the lawn leading down the lake, it was Harry - he’d just made it in time. The four champions were instructed to stand by edge of the lake; Krum was only wearing swimming trunks which showed off his finely toned athlete’s body. Azalea’s mind strayed to a memory of someone else who had looked good in swimming trunks but she quickly banished that thought, she would not torture herself thinking of things that would not happen again. 

The voice of Bagman, who was at the judges table, rang out across the lake informing the audience that the champions had one hour to recover that which had been taken from them. He blew the starting whistle and the audience cheered and watched the champions enter the lake. What madness was this, thought Azalea, to have a water based competition in the winter. Both Cedric and Fleur produced a bubble-head charm, which looked as if they had a goldfish bowl over their heads, and dived in. Krum transfigured himself into a shark but it was incomplete and he remained human from the waist down. Harry had stuffed something into his mouth and was chewing frantically but for a minute or so nothing happened, some of the audience started to laugh at his inactivity. He suddenly pressed his hands to his neck and Azalea saw two large slits had appeared just below his ears – she realised he had developed gills. He then dived into the water and disappeared from view.

Azalea was sitting next to Charity and said to her “It looks like most of the action is going to take place underwater, so it’s not a very good for the spectators is it? We might as well not be here.” The rest of the audience had come to the same conclusion and a muttering of conversation replaced the cheers from earlier.

Charity turned to Azalea and said, “Azalea, I hope you don’t mind me asking you, but are you all right? Since the beginning of term you’ve been a bit subdued. Did something happen over Christmas?”

Azalea was surprised by Charity’s perceptiveness; she thought she had hidden her emotions well. She had to give a plausible answer so she opted for a limited version of the truth, “Yes it did. I came across a video taken of my family and it was the last one when we were all together. It made me realise how alone I am, my only surviving family members have either told me never to contact them again, or in the case of Harry, trying to pretend I don’t exist. I brought a copy of the videotape with me to give to Harry so he can watch it when he goes back home over the summer. I’d rather watch it with him so I can tell him who everyone is, but I don’t think he’d agree to come to my house to watch it and how would we get there anyway?”

“Azalea, you’re not alone, how could anyone as friendly as you ever truly be alone?” Charity tried to re-assure her, then an inspired thought struck her, “but I have got a solution to your video problem. As part of our muggle studies programme, there’s a laboratory in the school which has been enchanted so that muggle machines can work. It’s to help train our students to familiarise themselves with the muggle world when they have to act as a muggle. I’m sure there’s a video player there that you could use to show Harry your videotape.”

Azalea’s face lit up with delight, “Charity you’re a genius; that sounds like an excellent solution. I’ll wait a few days after Harry’s finished this task then I’ll see if I can get him to watch it with me.”

Charity smiled at her friend, “I’m glad it was so simple to solve. I was concerned that you had been disappointed in love, it’s so much more difficult to mend a broken heart.”

“That it certainly is” Azalea agreed with her then she asked, “Charity, have you ever been in love or married?”

Charity replied quietly “Yes, I was married, to a wonderful man and we had a son.”

Noting the sadness in her voice Azalea asked gently, “What happened to them?”

Charity gave a small smile, “Our son is now grown up and is training to be a healer. My husband died during the conflict with You Know Who.” She stopped for a minute lost in her thoughts; Azalea kept silent, waiting to see if Charity gave more details, which she did. “My husband was a muggle but he delighted in the wizard world and we were very happy to be a part of it. During the conflict all muggle/wizard marriages were declared invalid. That didn’t have any effect on the way we viewed our marriage, as far as we were both concerned we were married until the day he died. There was such persecution of muggles, you wouldn’t believe it, Azalea. We agreed that I would stay in the wizard world to look out for our son, who by then had just started school here at Hogwarts, and that my husband would go into hiding. I thought he would just hide himself somewhere quiet in the muggle world until the war was over but he didn’t. He wanted to fight for the side of good and he risked his life to smuggle the muggle born out of the wizard world and set them up in safe houses in the muggle world or abroad. His luck couldn’t hold for ever, and whether he was betrayed or it was simply bad timing I don’t know, but on one of his runs he was intercepted by some Death Eaters and killed along with most of the people he was helping to escape. I found out later that he gave his own life to enable a young boy to run and hide. When the war was over, that boy sought me out and told me the story. My husband died a hero and saved a life but I wish he’d just hidden himself somewhere quiet, I’d rather have a cautious man who’s still alive than a dead hero.”

Moved by the story Azalea said “If he’d done that he wouldn’t have been the man you loved would he?”

Charity was touched by Azalea’s understanding, “No, you’re right, of course, and I do still have our son who has so much of his father’s care and compassion. Once the war was over, I got a job here at Hogwarts, I hoped that by teaching young people about how muggles are no different to wizards, other than the fact they can’t do magic, that I could stop the bigotry and instil some tolerance.” Charity was done with her story and so turned the questioning to Azalea, “What about you, a lovely girl like you must have left behind a string of broken hearts?”

Azalea smiled and replied, “There have been a few but the one that got broken most was mine.” She looked out across the lake not really seeing it and then continued, “Since you’ve told me your story I’ll tell you mine,” she paused to collect her thoughts and then spoke, “I was in love, madly in love with a man I adored and he loved me. We’d been seeing each other for about 2 years and had all the expectation that in due course we would get married, have kids, get a mortgage - the lot – not necessarily in that order. Then one evening we’d cooked a nice meal and I thought we should have a bottle of wine with it. He wasn’t that bothered but I persuaded him to go and buy one. He stopped off at the cash machine first and then went to the off licence. On his way back he was mugged, just some junkie who wanted money for drugs and the bottle of wine would be a bonus. The mugger had a knife, he probably didn’t mean to kill him but the knife went in at the wrong place and he died.” 

“Azalea, I’m so sorry, that must have been awful.”

Azalea’s unfocused eyes turned to her companion and she said, “Yes it was. I blamed myself, if only I hadn’t insisted on a bottle of wine, if only he hadn’t gone to the cash machine first , if only I’d gone with him, if only, if only, if only. It’s taken me years to come to terms with it and to try to forgive myself for my contribution. I know I can’t live the rest of my life riddled with guilt and regret and I suppose I’ll never get over it properly. I haven’t been out with anyone else since.” She then gave a short laugh and lightened the mood by adding, “My friends are always trying to fix me up with someone. You never know, one day they might find the right person.”

“Or more likely, you’ll find someone all by yourself, just when you least expect it,” Charity advised.

“Maybe,” Azalea whispered and added more loudly, “but I won’t hold my breath.”

They continued to talk about more mundane subjects whilst waiting for something to happen in the lake. Finally it did, the surface of the water broke and Fleur emerged in a state of great distress. As spectators, Azalea and Charity didn’t know what was going on. They waited until Cedric appeared towing Cho, then Krum appeared with Hermoine, finally Harry surfaced towing both Ron and a small silver haired girl who Azalea recognised as Fleur’s sister. By now the audience has deduced that the items that had been taken from the champions were the people who had been brought up from the depths. They could see Dumbledore having a conversation with the merpeople who lived in the lake. Azalea had never seen the lake’s merpeople before and she was disappointed that they looked nothing like the beautiful mermaids she was familiar with from story books. The judges got into a huddle and the points were awarded. It seemed that Harry had shown moral fibre by not only rescuing his hostage but by also saving Fleur’s sister after Fleur failed to finish. The upshot was that Cedric and Harry now tied for first place, the audience applauded and cheered the Hogwarts Champions. Bagman announced that the third and final task would be on June 24th. Azalea hoped that the audience would be able to see and enjoy a bit more of the action next time. 

Charity and Azalea spotted Filius who had been patrolling the lakeside for the duration of the task together with the other senior staff. He had been in amongst the champions at the end of the task so they rushed over to see him in order to get more information about what had exactly happened, which he told them in his usual entertaining fashion. Snape, who had also been patrolling, followed them at a distance back to the castle and every so often he could hear the sound of their laughter carried on the breeze as if taunting him for his isolation.

-oOo- 

The following Sunday Azalea decided to take the bull by the horns and invite Harry to watch the video. During lunch she kept an eye on him and when he left she raced after him. She caught up with him on the stairs, “Harry! Can I have word please?” she called, he turned around, saw it was her and walked determinedly onwards ignoring her. Azalea wasn’t going to let him go, so she stood still and shouted “I said STOP!” Harry came to an abrupt halt and she ran up to him. “Thanks for stopping,” she said, “I need to show you something.”

Harry looked suspiciously at her, he’d felt compelled to stop when she’d shouted, how had that happened? “What do you need to show me?” he asked looking to see if she was carrying anything. 

“It’s a videotape,” she told him deciding not to beat about the bush, “it got our family in it, including Lily and James.”

“Muggle technology doesn’t work in Hogwarts, so how are we supposed to watch it?” he asked but she could tell she had got his interest by the mention of his parents.

“There is a muggle studies laboratory where it will work, let’s do it now,” she suggested.

He didn’t completely trust her but his curiosity had got the better of him, “Only if Ron and Hermione can come too” he said, just in case it was a trap and he needed back up.

“Yes that’s fine, I’ll just fetch the tape and I’ll see you outside the Gryfindor common room in ten minutes, OK?” she said.

Twenty minutes later the four of them arrived at the muggle studies laboratory. Azalea went ahead to open up and set up the video player, she left the door open whilst she located the power supply and remote control handset. She was moving about inside the room when she heard a familiar voice saying in a drawl, “Well, well if it isn’t Potter and his little pals, what are you doing in the muggle studies area? You three know all you need to know about muggles. Why is this door open? I hope you haven’t been prying into things you shouldn’t, that is your speciality is it not Potter?”

Azalea stepped out from the laboratory and said firmly, “It’s all right, Professor Snape, they are with me and have my permission to be here.”

He saw she had a videotape in her hand and peering into the laboratory he could see a video player, similar to the one at her house, which was on standby and ready to go, the television screen already glowing blue and waiting for the tape to be put in. He correctly deduced what was on the video she was about to show Harry.

“In that case I’ll leave them in your capable hands” he said scornfully.

“Yes, you do that,” she retorted, “and I’ll thank you not to make unfounded accusations at my students.”

He bit back any sharp answer that had risen to his lips, he did not want to be drawn into an argument with her in front of Potter, of all people. He glared at her and swept off down the corridor.

Azalea watched him stalk away thinking, “the first words we exchange outside the classroom and all we can do is snap at each other, how did it come to this?” She returned to the laboratory where Harry, Hermione and Ron were waiting. Ron was fascinated by the television and video player, never having seen one before. “Wait until I tell Dad about this,” he told the others excitedly whilst Hermione looked at him indulgently as if he were a child with a new toy.

Azalea handed him the videotape, “Here put this in that slot there, it goes in with the label facing upwards and the moveable flap in first.” Ron did as instructed and with a clunk the tape was located in position inside the machine.

The four of them sat in front of the television and Azalea pressed play on the remote control. This tape was a copy of the one she had at home so it was not preceded by the Star Trek introductory dialogue, instead it went straight to her mother. Azalea said to Harry, “That’s my mother, she was Lily’s aunt.” When the young Azalea came on screen, Azalea said, “Do you recognise me?”

Hermione laughed at her appearance and said “I’d never have taken you for a punk rocker!”

“It didn’t last long,” Azalea commented, then looking at the screen continued to explain to Harry what they were seeing, “That house belonged to Lily’s parents who were my aunt and uncle and your grandparents.” The tape came to the part where Leah was making the introductions to the man operating the video camera so Azalea said no more, letting the recording speak for itself.

When Sirius came on screen, Hermione remarked, “He’s changed so much, he’s very careworn now but wasn’t he a handsome man?”

They laughed at baby Harry playing with the chains on Leah’s outfit. At the part where Leah said some of the guests were Lily’s teachers, Ron pointed out one of them, “Isn’t that person Dumbledore?”

Before any of them responded James and Lily came into view and they watched the rest of the tape without comment, all aware of the emotions that must be going through Harry to see his parents alive and happy at their son’s first birthday party. When the tape came to an end, Harry asked if he could see it again. 

“See it as many times as you want to,” Azalea told him, “I’ll leave the three of you alone now and I’ll be back later.” She left the room feeling indescribably sad and tearful, the people on the tape were people she had known and loved. To Harry, they were only names and images on a television screen and although she had no doubt that seeing his parents had reminded him of his great loss, he had never really known them or the others on the tape. She missed them all, every one of them. She remembered snatches of conversations, of joy and laughter, happy family get together days. She even remembered that not all times had been good. Her mother and grandparents had reprimanded her on many occasions for some of her transgressions, she had argued with her mother in the way that children and teenagers do, accusing her mother of not understanding her. But they had always loved her and she had loved them. Azalea stopped at a bay window in the corridor which was letting sun light flow in, casting a shadow of the window frame onto the wall opposite. She leant her head against the window pane and let the tears which had been building up behind her eyes flow down her face. She wept for the loss of her loved ones, for the days they had enjoyed and for all the days that they had lost, she wept for young Harry being orphaned and left to languish with his uncaring aunt and uncle, she wept for allowing herself to indulge in a bout of self-pity.

Snape was returning the way he had come, past the muggle studies laboratory, having finished the task that had sent him in that direction. He noticed a shadow on the wall framed in the outline of the window where someone was standing in the recess. If that was Potter he’d get him this time. He hastened closer but stopped when he saw who it was by the window. It was Azalea, she was resting her head against the window and he could tell by the way her shoulders were shaking that she was crying; her whole attitude was one of deep sorrow. He felt an instinctive need to go and comfort her, to hold her close to him, to take her tears and wipe them away. He mastered himself before he did anything so foolish and retraced his footsteps to find another route back rather than walk past her. He left her with her tears falling onto the cold comfort of a hard window pane.


	23. Of Duels and Elves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea learns dueling from Filius and meets the house elves for the first time.

Filius was teaching Azalea how to duel. In a conversation he had once let slip that in his youth he had been a duelling champion and Azalea had begged him to show her some basic techniques. Filius explained duelling to her. “It’s not just about standing in front of each other and throwing spells from your wands, you would lose a duel if that’s all you could do. The secret is to present a small target to your opponent and to keep moving. Never take your eyes off your opponent. Let’s practice the movements before we even think about what spells to use. Stand with your body facing sidewards, turn your head to keep your eyes on what your opponent is doing.” He demonstrated the stance which she copied. “Now you must learn to move, smoothly and in a way to confuse, you must appear to be moving to the left but then go the right, look like you’re going backwards but lunge forwards. It’s like a dance with each other. Move your arms so your opponent doesn’t know where you will strike, you must confuse, betray and be ready to strike the moment the opportunity arises. Don’t forget that your opponent will be doing the same to you so you must observe his movements, he will be trying to confuse as well.”

They danced around each other in the way Filius had explained. Despite it being years since Filius had competed in a duel he had lost none of the smooth grace and agility that was needed for duelling. “Do you still practice?” Azalea asked him as they circled around the room each keeping their eyes on the other. 

“I still belong to a duelling club but I don’t get there as much as I would like. By the way Azalea, talking to your opponent is a good distraction tactic. You’ll find that duellers are masters in insults so you can’t afford to be sensitive to name calling,” he told her.

Over the next few sessions he taught basic duelling spells such as the disarming spell – expelliarmus. “You’d only succeed with that spell against a complete novice,” he told her, “or if your opponent had his back to you, but it’s useful to know.” 

After a few lessons Filius asked Azalea whether she had yet managed to produce a patronus. “No, I haven’t” she replied, “although I do know what they are because it was covered in a Defence Against the Dark Arts class once, but Moody thought the class too young to try to conjure one.” 

“So you’ve never tried to conjure one?” he asked.

“No.”

“Do you want to have a go? It can be helpful in duelling if the battle gets out of hand because your patronus would then protect you. The main use for them is to protect against dementors, normally I would say you’d never meet one of those but we had a plague of them last year so I think you need to be prepared. Are you ready? Now watch what I do.” Filius lifted his wand and said in a calm but powerful voice, “expecto patronum”. At once a silvery vapour flowed out the end of his wand and coalesced to form itself into a white polar bear. It ran around the room then dissipated back into a vapour.

“Oh wow, that’s really cool,” said Azalea, “how do you keep it going if you’re really in danger?” 

“You keep focussing the spell on the danger and the patronus will try to protect you for as long as the danger is present, or until you are forced to give up. Your turn now,” he instructed her.

Azalea took her wand, pointed it at the ceiling and said the words “expecto patronum” using the same intonation that Filius had used and matching the colours she saw when he did it (red, yellow and blue). A silvery vapour shot out of her wand and holding it aloft she waited to see what animal it would turn into, but her vapour didn’t mould itself into a single shape like Filius’ had, instead it broke into thousands of individual sections each one a discrete animal and they swarmed together to form a mighty barrier that could protect her front, back and side should the need ever arise. She lowered her wand and the swarm shrank back down to nothing.

Filius was open mouthed, “A swarm of bees. I’ve never seen or heard of anything like that, you really are quite unique. But why bees?”

“I was attacked by a swarm of bees when I quite young,” she told him.

“You must be scared of them aren’t you?” he asked.

“No, that’s the odd thing I’m not,” she said thoughtfully. “I don’t really remember the attack but my mother told me they were a particularly unusual type of bees, I had to go the London Hospital for Tropical Medicine for treatment. Apparently I nearly died, if I’d got even a few more stings it would have been curtains for me. Ever since then I’ve had an affinity with bees, I’ve never been stung again and, I know this sounds odd, but they seem to like me. When I’m out I’ll often have bees buzzing around me, I just ignore them now. Maybe one day I’ll have to keep hives of bees, but perhaps not, to me that seems like caging them up.”

“Let’s try it again, so I know you could do it. See if you can control your patronus by splitting it up so it could defend two places at once.” Filius suggested and after a bit of experimentation she managed to do that.

Over the next few weeks as the duelling lessons progressed she got better and she started to win bouts. Filius was impressed, “you really have a talent for this,” he told her, “you seem to be able to know what spell I’m about to cast before I do.”

“I’ll hold my hands up and confess my secret to you, Filius. I can see the colours that magic makes, and before any spell comes out of your wand I get a glimpse of the colours, so I see when your are about to cast a spell and I can often tell what that spell is,” she told him because she thought she was effectively cheating and didn’t want him to think he was losing his touch.

Filius stopped in his tracks and regarded her with awe “That is a fine gift to have and it’s incredibly rare. I have heard that some people have that ability but I’ve never met one. But” he said as he started the slow dance around her again and moved the tip of his wand behind his back, “you made a mistake in telling me.” He swept his wand out from behind his back with surprising speed and launched a spell at her. She hadn’t seen it coming, she dodged out of the way but the spell caught the edge of her robe and caused a huge rip. Filius ceased moving and reprimanded her “Didn’t you use that shield spell I showed you to prevent injuries while we’re practising?”

“Yes, but I kept it close to my body and my robe must have been outside the effect,” she told him.

“You must keep all your clothing within its boundaries, I could have set your robes on fire and I doubt if a shield spell could stop fire. Anyway that’s enough for today, I need to go and do my head of house duties,” he said whilst releasing the shield spell on himself and putting his wand away.

“O.K. Filius,” she said, “You go, I’ll tidy up in here and I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Azalea finished putting the room they had been practising in back in order and left to return to her room. She became aware of voices in front of her and looking down the corridor she noticed Harry, Ron and Hermione walking away. She could see no other doors along the corridor that they might have come from, but this was Hogwarts and secret passages were commonplace so she kept her eyes peeled for evidence of a hidden door. There it was, in a painting of a bowl of fruit she could quite clearly make out a pear which was glowing in the way that enchanted objects did to her eyes. She reached out towards it and touched it seeing if twisted as a door handle would, the pear giggled and turned into a handle, pulling the door open she stepped inside to see where it led to. It opened up into an enormous room with a ceiling stretching almost out of sight; the room was littered with piles of brass saucepans and a brick fireplace at one end. The occupants of the room were the next thing she noticed. About a hundred small creatures were standing around the kitchen, they had huge eyes, long noses and bat like ears and almost all of them were wearing, in the manner of a toga, a tea towel embossed with the Hogwarts emblem. Despite the fact that she had never seen one, she knew at once that these were the house elves that Hermione was so passionate about. Azalea stared at the elves and they stared back at her. One detached itself from the crowd; this one was different to the rest because it was wearing a tea cosy for its hat, a pair of child’s football shorts and odd socks. The elf approached her and said “It’s my lady. My lady has come to visit the elves. My lady honours the house elves with her presence.”

“My name’s Azalea Bennett and who might you be?” she asked the strange creature.

“I is Dobby,” the house elf declared proudly, “You is Harry Potter’s aunty.”

“I’m his cousin actually. I’ve heard Harry and his friends mention you. I didn’t know you were working here now; I’m very pleased to meet you Dobby,” she held out her hand for him to shake, he had seen humans do this gesture before but never to a house elf, he tentatively took her hand and shook it vigorously. 

The other house elves, encouraged by Dobby’s success at talking to her, had crept closer and some were reaching out to touch her so she shook their hands too. She could hear them whispering to one another “It is my lady.” “My lady has come.” 

“Dobby,” she asked as he seemed to be the only one who would talk directly to her, “how did you know I was related to Harry, it’s not common knowledge?”

“Dobby can see my lady has the same power as in Harry Potter,” he replied.

“Power? What power can you see? And it’s in both of us?”

“Yes, big power, like in Harry, in both of you. House elves see power like that in wizards. It just is.” Dobby tried to explain.

“Oh,” she said not really understanding but suspecting that Dobby couldn’t articulate what he saw she didn’t pursue the subject. 

One of the other house elves whispered something to Dobby and he then asked her if she would like a drink or something to eat. She asked for a cup of tea and immediately several house elves ran about preparing tea which was served to her in a china teapot, with a cup and jug of milk. It was the best cup of tea she’d had at Hogwarts and she said so. The house elves were delighted to be able to serve her. 

She sat down at one of the large tables to drink her tea, feeling slightly like an exhibit in a zoo because all the elves just stood around watching her. While she was drinking her tea, she noticed the tear in her robes from Filius’s spell. In order to distract them she asked the elves “Do you have any needle and thread so I can mend this?”

A quiet voice came from the direction of the fireplace, “Winky’s good at sewing, she mend it for my lady.”

Azalea moved her chair back and leaned over to see at who was speaking. By the fire was a red checked tablecloth which was neatly covering something up and the voice came from that direction. Azalea stood up and crossed over to the fireplace. She bent down and lifted up the corner of the tablecloth. Underneath lay a house elf, a female one Azalea guessed because she was wearing a skirt and blouse. The elf sat up and Azalea had a good look at her. She seemed to have no pride in her appearance, unlike the other elves, who were clean, if bizarrely, dressed. The clothes the elf under the tablecloth was wearing were ragged and stained with food and drink spillages. Azalea spoke to the elf, “Hello, did you say something?”

“Yes, my lady,” the elf responded, “Winky’s good at sewing, she can mend it for you.”

“That’s very kind of you to offer, Winky,” Azalea said gently, “but don’t you have other work to do? I wouldn’t want you to do too much.”

Azalea felt a tug on her arm, looking down she saw it was Dobby trying to get her attention. “My lady, let Winky do it,” he whispered urgently, “Winky is sad, she is pining for her master.”

Azalea recalled a conversation she had had with Hermione and took Dobby aside so that Winky couldn’t hear them. “Is that the house elf that Hermione told me about? The one who’s master freed her at the Quidditch tournament?”

“Yes, my lady,” confirmed Dobby. “She still thinks Mr Crouch is her master, she doesn’t want to be a free elf. Professor Dumbledore has given me and Winky jobs at Hogwarts but Winky won’t do any work and the other elves is ashamed of her.”

“I see,” mused Azalea, “thank you Dobby.” She returned to where Winky was still sitting on the floor, looking dejected and Azalea noticed the other elves had given her a wide berth. Azalea knelt on the floor next to Winky and lifting up her torn robe so that Winky could see it, she said, “Winky, this is a very bad tear in my robe. My sewing isn’t really very good, look at how badly I took up the hem.” She showed Winky the uneven stitching she had done when she first got the robes back in September. Come to think of it, she was amazed that her hemming had stayed together this long.

Winky looked at the hemming stitches, the tear in the robe and then stared at Azalea with her big eyes and said, “My lady’s stitches look like dragon’s teeth, when Winky sews no one sees the stitches.” 

Azalea heard a sharp intake of breath coming from some of the house elves at Winky’s criticism of Azalea’s sewing skills but Azalea laughed and agreed with Winky, “You’re right about my sewing, it does look like dragon’s teeth. Would you come to my chambers tomorrow before I go to breakfast and mend them for me?”

“Yes, my lady,” said Winky with a spark of interest in her voice which hadn’t been there before. 

The next morning when Winky arrived at her chambers Azalea noticed that Winky was looking less dishevelled than the night before although her clothes could still have done with a good wash. Azalea explained to Winky the sewing that needed doing and mentioned that the robes were borrowed robes and would need to be returned in their unaltered state. When she returned to her chambers later that day, the robes were laid out on her bed. Winky had not been exaggerating her sewing skills, the tear was barely visible and the hemming had been redone in tiny but totally secure stitching, the robes had even been laundered. Azalea went down to the kitchens to thank Winky for a job well done. 

When she arrived in the kitchen the house elves swarmed around her and offered to make her some tea which she accepted. Whilst the tea was being prepared she looked around the room for Winky and saw her sitting by the fire and staring absently into the embers. Azalea went over to her and told her how pleased she was with the sewing. Winky looked up and said, “Winky is glad my lady likes the sewing. Does my lady have any more sewing for Winky to do?”

“Well, yes – could you do the hem on the one I’m wearing? Get rid of the dragon’s teeth stitches for me, please,” she suggested.

“Winky could make some robes for my lady that fit properly, that one is too big.” 

“I know, but robes are expensive and I don’t have money to spend on new ones, or on material to make them with, so I’ll have to manage with these borrowed ones for now,” Azalea explained. 

One of the house elves who was listening to the conversation interrupted, “My lady, we knows where lots of old robes are. When students leave Hogwarts because they grown up they don’t take their robes with them. We keeps some of them, they nice to sleep on. Come, see.” The elf held out its hand which Azalea took hold of and the pair of them disapparated. 

The feeling of apparation with a house elf was unlike the feeling when done with a wizard. There was no stomach churning squashing sensation, she was simply in one place one second and another place the next second. “Now that’s what I think “beam me up, Scotty” is really like,” she said to the house elf. 

“Does my lady want this house elf to be called Scotty?” the elf asked in a puzzled voice.

“No,” she assured him, “you keep your own name. It was a joke I have with myself.”

“This elf likes Scotty so now is called Scotty. Scotty is proud that my lady gives him a name.”

They had appeared in a large room filled with clothes, books, bags and other unwanted items left by students neatly arranged around the room on shelves or hanging up on racks. “Is this all stuff left behind?” she asked.

“Yes, my lady. Professor Dumbledore says that the house elves can have it.”

Azalea went up to the racks where the robes were hanging and tried a few against herself. “These would probably fit with a few adjustments” she said, “but I don’t want to take things which you house elves might need.”

“House elves keeps things they don’t really need,” Scotty told her in a conspiratorial way, “My lady need it more. Take it. Then Winky have something to do and not drink butterbeer.”

Azalea regarded the house elf with respect; they were not as childlike as she had been led to believe. “Thank you,” she said taking the robes. She held out her hand, Scotty took it and they disapparated back to the kitchen.

Azalea returned to her rooms with the robes she had taken and placed them on the sofa for Winky to work on the next day. As she did so she saw that one of them was edged with the Slytherin colours and house badge. She hadn’t noticed that when she’d selected it. She ran her fingers over the silky green edging and the serpent badge thinking of Severus. The amount of emotional pain she felt for his rejection of her defied logic but she was certain there was more to it than simply being a woman scorned. She had only known him for 5 months and for the past two of those they had been avoiding each other. The number of times they had interacted with one another were few but every one of them was etched in her memory. Why was that? What was his attraction to her? It wasn’t his looks, although he had beautiful dark eyes which were capable of looking at her with tenderness, and she liked his hair, (when it was washed it with muggle shampoo), in any case she wasn’t so superficial as to judge a person purely on their looks. What was it then? He could be, frankly, rude and insulting especially to his students and he had used his acerbic words on her on more than one occasion, but he could be thoughtful – like the trip to Norway, and he had a sense of fun – at the swimming pool and the karaoke bar. His singing voice was one she could die for. She knew there was more to him than met the eye, he had depths as yet unexplored. But, and it was a big but, he was still in love with a dead woman. How could she compete with that? Was she still in love with a dead man?

In some ways it was more difficult to deal with her feelings over Severus than it had been dealing with Edward’s death. She had been devastated but everyone had rallied round her offering their help, love and support and somehow she had got through it, knowing she would never see him again. Her situation now was completely different. No one knew about the attraction between her and Severus and she needed to keep it that way. She saw him almost every day. Usually she knew when they would meet: - in the classroom, at meal times, in the staff room – so she could school her features to the mask she wore to hide her thoughts and emotions. Occasionally she would come across him unexpectedly and then her heart would leap and the butterflies take flight inside her stomach, but she fought them down and acted in a detached manner around him. She wished she knew how to cure herself but what was the point in trying to analyse love? If it was love she felt. She spent as much time as she could keeping occupied, the early morning runs, her lessons, the proof reading, the duelling instructions with Filius, studying in the library, lesson planning, teaching muggle studies and socialising with other members of staff like Charity and Filius. It was when she lay down to sleep at night that she found it most difficult, he would creep into her thoughts and haunt her dreams. Tomorrow, she decided, she’d take a walk into Hogsmeade, which may act as a distraction and perhaps tire her out enough to sleep dreamlessly when she returned.


	24. Snuffles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea renews an old acquaintance.

Azalea set off for Hogsmeade after breakfast. It was a lovely spring morning and she had decided to stay out until late afternoon. Winky had been most insistent that she should prepare a packed lunch for Azalea and had produced enough food for about three people. Azalea did not wish to undermine Winky’s slow progress towards accepting her life as a free elf and had taken the food parcel with effusive thanks. She was wearing one of the new robes that Winky had fashioned for her. This one would not pass as school uniform because Winky had decorated it with brightly coloured flowers made from material that she had scavenged from somewhere. Azalea was impressed with Winky’s sewing skills and had asked her how she did it. “House elf magic” was her reply but she did not want to demonstrate her skill in action to Azalea. 

A slow change was coming over Winky and both Azalea and the other house elves had noticed it. For a start she now took some pride in her appearance and the skirts and blouses she wore were clean and ironed. Scotty had told Azalea that Winky had stopped drinking butterbeer and would often join the other house elves for their meals. As well as working on Azalea’s clothes she also helped out with the household chores in running the castle, particularly where work for Azalea was concerned, so she always cleaned Azaleas rooms and tidied up the office that Azalea shared with Charity. The house elves didn’t seem to mind that Winky was starting to consider herself Azalea’s personal house elf, which was preferable to her previous behaviour. Dobby told Azalea that although the other house elves would never want to be free elves and treated him and Winky with a certain amount of suspicion, things were definitely better now that Winky was doing her share of the work. 

Azalea left the castle and set off along the road to Hogsmeade. The route was beautiful in the spring time as she had thought it would be the first time she had walked it. The heather was starting to flower and a soft purple sheen covered the hillside. The sky was dotted with white fluffy clouds and the sun shone brightly, although with little warmth it still being early in the year, as yet there was no breeze or wind to stir the coarse grass growing at the side of the track. Azalea walked slowly along the path taking her time and enjoying the feeling of being outdoors after the long winter. She approached the village and as always was charmed by its quaint and colourful look. When she got closer she noticed that some of the buildings were suffering from the ravages of the winter, the paintwork looking dull and stained and some of the thatch was coming loose. She idly wondered whether the wizards employed muggle tradesmen for the building maintenance or if there was a spell for it. 

Her first stop was the post office to drop off and collect her proof reading assignments. By now she was a regular customer and she greeted the post mistress by name. “Good morning, Shona, I’ve got these to send and there should be some more for me. Have they arrived yet?”

“Yes, they’re in the back. I’m glad you’ve come in to collect them, there’s rather a lot today and it saves me packaging them up for separate owl deliveries.” Shona disappeared into the rear store room and returned a few minutes later with a large parcel commenting “It looks like you’ve got your work cut out for a while.”

“That’s for sure,” replied Azalea, “It’ll keep me occupied and stop me being bored. Can I change some muggle money while I’m here?”

“Certainly,” responded Shona and then continued to chat whilst she did the transactions. “What are your plans for today then?”

“Well, as it’s a nice day I thought I’d walk up the glen, I’ve got some lunch with me so I can take all day if I want to. I might as well get started with the proof reading too so the day’s not entirely wasted.”

Shona had lived in Hogsmeade all her life and was fiercely loyal, “Walking up the glen is never a waste of time, and it is beautiful on a day like this. You’ll feel better for it. One word of warning though, there have been sightings of a stray dog and a large flying creature, some of the farmers have reported sheep killings, so keep an eye out and don’t go too far off the track.”

“Thanks for the warning, I’ll take care.” Azalea completed her transactions and left the post office. 

As she turned the corner, she heard a voice say, “Azalea, this is a nice surprise, I didn’t know you were coming up to Hogsmeade today, you didn’t mention it at breakfast.” 

“Good morning Igor,” Azalea responded cordially, “I hadn’t decided one way or the other at breakfast but it’s such a nice day, I thought I’d strike while the iron was hot and make the most of the weather. You didn’t mention it at breakfast either.”

“No, like you I only decided to come when I saw it was a nice day. I’ve got some business to do but would you like to meet for lunch at the Three Broomsticks later?”

Azalea would rather take her chances with the stray dog and dangerous creature in the glen than have lunch with Karkaroff. For some reason she just didn’t like him, but in the interest of the inter-school cordiality that was expected as part of the Triwizard contest she kept her views to herself and had always been polite towards him. “I’m so sorry, Igor but I must head back to Hogwarts straight away; I’ve got a lot of work to catch up with. I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

“All right,” he said making no attempt to hide the disappointment in his voice. “I’ll save you a place next to me.”

Azalea couldn’t see how she could refuse this request so resigned herself to putting on her sociable act that evening. “Very well, Igor, it will be nice to have a change of scenery at the dinner table and be at the top end rather than the bottom end.”

“It seems to me that it’s more fun at the bottom end of the table. I’m sure you’ll be better company than Snape or Madame Maxine, there’s always laughter coming from your end of the table,” Karkaroff told her with one of his smiles that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’ll see you later at dinner,” Azalea said as she walked away. She heard him go into the post office and glanced around to make sure that no one was looking; she pulled out her wand and produced a concealment charm on herself. The concealment charm didn’t make you invisible but worked so that the observer’s view was diverted and you could go about unnoticed unless you acted in a way to draw attention to yourself; it was as if you just blended into the background. Azalea had found it useful on occasions when she was trying to avoid Snape and, to a lesser extent, Karkaroff. With the charm in place she headed out past Dervish and Banges towards the path that led to the glen. 

As she walked out of the village she could see the back of Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop. A movement caught her eye and she stopped to look more closely. A dark black shape was rummaging in the bins and pulling out refuse bags which it then tore open and ate the contents. Azalea slowly moved towards the animal until she could get a better look. It was a large dog with shaggy black fur. Azalea could also see the coloured glow around it which indicated to her that the dog was enchanted in some way; it occurred to her that this was the stray dog that Shona had mentioned. The dog finished eating, picked up one of the bags in its mouth and looking around in a most un-doglike way it started to make its way up the hillside. 

Moving in a natural manner so as not to break the concealment spell, Azalea followed the dog. She wasn’t sure whether a concealment charm would work on dogs, with their incredible sense of smell, but she was downwind of this particular animal and she strongly suspected that this wasn’t a normal dog. The dog followed a steep winding path that led up the mountain. The surface of the track was formed of loose stones and Azalea had to tread carefully for fear of dislodging one and the sound alerting the dog to her presence. After about half an hour’s walking the dog suddenly disappeared from view. Azalea gave up trying to maintain her cover with the concealment charm, levitated a few feet off the ground and flew over the remaining distance to where the dog has vanished. 

In the side of the hill she could see a narrow fissure. She landed silently and peered into the gap. The sun behind her shone a narrow beam of light into the fissure illuminating a larger space behind it. This was the entrance to a cave. She saw the dog stand still and then shake itself; slowly she saw it change form. The back elongated, the front legs got shorter, the back legs got longer, the head changed to a rounder shape and the matted fur fell away. Once the change was complete the dog had changed into a man, a naked man. He was thin to the point of gauntness, his ribs showing clearly through the skin on his chest. His hair must once have been black but was now liberally speckled with grey, his beard too and both were matted and unkempt. He moved his face into the sunlight and Azalea thought she recognised him. He must have been handsome before time and who knew what circumstances had ravaged his body to its present condition. A movement at the back of the cave drew Azalea’s attention and the glint of something orange flashed in the ray of light which had reached that far in. The orange object moved and then she heard a noise like a bird’s squawk. The man rushed to grab his wand and stood facing the opening to the cave. Azalea moved to the entrance so they could see her. She looked at the man, not sure how well he could see her with the sun behind her casting her in silhouette. “I can tell you’re a wizard,” she said to him, “you’ll go for your wand before you go for your clothes.” The man then seemed to become aware of his nakedness and with a lazy swish of his wand he was dressed. His clothes did little to improve his appearance and the ragged grey robes he wore hung loosely off him.

“Who are you? What do want?” the man demanded, still pointing his wand at Azalea.

“My name’s Azalea Bennett. I was taking a walk up the glen when I saw a dog go into this cave. Where is it by the way?”

The man lowered his wand a fraction. “Azalea Bennett? Are you Harry’s cousin?”

“How do you know that?” she asked as she approached the entrance and slipped easily through the narrow gap.

“Harry mentioned it last time I spoke to him.” He brought his wand arm down to rest by his legs but still ready to use it should the need arise and waited while she came in. 

“You now know my name and my relationship to Harry. What’s yours?”

“I’m his godfather.” 

Azalea stared at the man, now she knew where she recognised him from, the video recording of Harry’s first birthday. How he had changed, but then twelve years in a brutal wizard prison would do that to anyone. “Sirius.” she whispered. “The last time you saw me was at Harry’s first birthday party, I had pink hair and black clothes with chains on them.”

“Yes, I remember,” he said quietly, “I haven’t had fun since that day. Three months later my world had changed, my friends dead and I believed I was responsible. Now I’m on the run, hiding out from the world with only a condemned hippogriff for company.”

“Hippogriff?” Azalea looked around the cave and saw that the orange glint she had seen from outside the cave belonged to a winged creature with the hindquarters of a grey horse and the front of an eagle. She approached the creature cautiously, “Aren’t you beautiful?” she said to it as she made eye contact; the animal gazed at her imperiously.

Sirius whispered to her, “You need to bow to him.” She bowed low before it which forced her to look away for a second. The hippogriff stared at her for a moment then bent its forelegs in what was clearly a bow. “Thank goodness for that,” said a relieved Sirius, “if he didn’t accept you I’d be scraping you off the floor by now, assuming he hadn’t tried to eat you, we’re both hungry enough to try it.”

“Food!” exclaimed Azalea, “I can help you with that I’ve got loads in my back pack.” She took off the back pack and produced the ample lunch that Winky had packed for her, letting Sirius and Buckbeak eat as much as they wanted before she finished up the leftovers knowing she would be having a full meal that evening, even if she did have to sit with Karkaroff.

She spent the rest of the afternoon keeping him company, talking about the past and the present. She promised to visit often and to bring him food. “You’re a wizard, can’t you just conjure up food?” she’d asked him.

“No,” he told her, “it’s one of the rules of magic, you can’t make something out of nothing, you could cook it magically but you need to have the ingredients there.”

“Couldn’t you change this rock into food then? Transfigure it or something?”

“That would take massive amounts of magical energy because they are so different, and transfiguration often isn’t permanent. I could end up with rocks in my stomach,” he explained. 

“I’ll keep you supplied with food” she promised. “I’ve got to go now but I’ll be back tomorrow. It’s much easier for me to leave Hogwarts than it is for Harry, so I expect you’ll see me more often than him.” 

“Thanks Azalea, see you tomorrow.” He hoped that she would keep her promise and keep him from his isolation which in some ways was worse than being in prison.

\--oOo--

That evening at dinner, Snape was sitting in his usual place. Karkaroff approached and instead of sitting next to him as he normally did he left a seat between them. Snape was relieved that he wouldn’t have the chore of speaking to him that evening. He heard the sound of a familiar laugh and looked up to see Azalea coming across the dining hall accompanied by Filius and Charity. She said something to them and then headed towards his end of the table. Karkaroff stood up as she approached, kissed her cheek in greeting, in the European way, and indicated the empty seat between them. Azalea greeted Snape with, “Good evening Severus. I met Igor in Hogsmeade today and I agreed to come to this end of the table to eat today, a change is as good as a rest, so they say,” she told him by way of explanation.

“Don’t they also say, “plus ça change, plus c’est le même chose”?” he responded acidly.

Madame Maxine had overheard the French phrase and had a quick conversation with Azalea in French. Azalea gave a short burst of laughter and Madame Maxine’s lower tones joined her. 

Karkaroff felt as though the situation was getting away from him so he commented to Azalea, “I told you there was more laughter at your end of the table and I’m pleased to see you’ve brought it with you. What was the joke anyway?”

Azalea explained, “The expression that Professor Snape quoted means something like “the more things change, the more they stay the same.” Maxine said, “Or as the common man would say: - same shit, different day.”

Karkaroff laughed too and engaged Azalea in conversation for the rest of the meal. Snape overheard snatches of their talk which was on wide ranging but general topics, interspersed with Azalea’s merry laughter and Karkaroff’s annoying guffaw. The presence of Azalea sitting beside him burned his body and he shifted as far as he could on his seat to maximise the distance between them. When he had eaten his dinner but before dessert was served, Snape stood up to leave. Noticing his movement Karkaroff said, “Leaving so soon Snape, this is the most enjoyable meal I’ve had for ages. Don’t you think we should invite Miss Bennett up this end of the table every day?”

Snape glared at Karkaroff, “It would seem that Miss Bennett needs no invitation from me, if she did she could be sure that she wouldn’t get one.” 

Karkaroff watched him leave, “Azalea, you have a standing invitation from me to join us whenever you wish.”

“Thank you Igor, I’ll bear that in mind,” she replied quietly as she saw Snape go out the door, his body held erect in the way she knew he did when he was discomforted.


	25. The Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea has a plan to help Sirius get out and about.

The next day, as she had promised, Azalea visited Sirius in the cave. Upon leaving Hogwarts she flew over to the cave which was quicker than walking. Apparating would have been quicker still but she had not yet taken her apparation test and didn’t want to risk Sirius’ discovery just to save a few minutes. She was still slightly nervous about the dangers of apparating but had not been splinched again in any of the lessons so was slowly gaining confidence.

Azalea slipped inside the cave and announced her presence. Sirius was sitting on the floor staring vacantly into space but jumped up when he saw her. “You came!” he exclaimed. 

“Just like I said I would,” she assured him. “And I’ve brought you some more food.” She handed over a bag containing a selection of food and drink, including a bottle of wine, plus a plate, cup and some cutlery. “I even managed to scrounge a sheep carcass from Hagrid to give to Buckbeak. I’ve left that outside though, you don’t want your cave to look like a charnel house. You can let Buckbeak have it when it gets dark and then dispose of the bones.”

Sirius looked through the bag she had given him and picked out a loaf of bread which he cut into slices and then layered pieces of cheese on to it. He sat back down on the floor and just before taking a bite he asked “However did you persuade Hagrid to give you a sheep carcass?”

“Without much difficulty, I just told him the truth; or half-truth anyway. I said that you’d been forced to return from your exile, with Buckbeak, and you were having trouble finding food for him. He asked loads of questions about how Buckbeak is keeping; far more than he asked about you.”

Sirius looked at her with some alarm, “You didn’t tell him where we were did you? You know that Hagrid is the world’s worst person at keeping secrets.”

“No, I didn’t tell him. I think he’ll be OK with this secret because if he lets information slip then Buckbeak is at risk,” she replied.

“I hope so,” said Sirius not entirely convinced, “I shall set alarms and wards around the cave just in case.”

“You should have done that already,” Azalea admonished him. “While you’re at it, why don’t you make this cave more comfortable?”

“This is comfortable compared to Azkaban,” he commented.

Azalea sat down beside him on the floor of the cave, “What was it like there?” she asked gently.

He paused in his eating and once more stared vacantly in to the distance. “It was hell.” he said simply. “I only survived because I knew I was innocent of the deaths of the twelve muggles in the explosion, I didn’t care that Pettigrew had died except I needed him to prove my innocence. I felt guilty for being the cause of James and Lily’s deaths and so thought I deserved to be there.” He turned to look at her with a haunted look in his face, “I should have gone mad in there, so many others did, but I concentrated on my innocence, it was more an obsession than a happy thought.” He then changed tack, “You know that dog you followed to the cave yesterday?” Azalea nodded. “That was me, I’m an unregistered Animagus. Sometimes I’d change into the dog and then the Dementors couldn’t touch me as deeply as they could when I was human.” He gave a short laugh like a bark, “Ironically the penalty for being an unregistered Animagus is imprisonment in Azkaban.”

Azalea felt moved with pity for this man who had lost 12 years of his life for a crime he had not committed and would now never be able to prove his innocence unless Peter Pettigrew could be persuaded to tell the truth. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into an embrace to show she understood but that no words she said could alleviate his pain. He relaxed into her hold and they remained like that for several minutes until Azalea was struck by an idea. She let him go and facing him said, “You must be sick of your own company by now.”

He gave a curt snicker, “I certainly am, and with seeing the same four walls day in day out.”

“Well let’s take you out somewhere for a change of scenery,” she said.

“You forget I’m a wanted man, the second anyone recognises me, I’ll be back in Azkaban.”

“Not if you’re in disguise. What about polyjuice potion?”

“That takes a month to brew, and then I’d have to find some to impersonate,” Sirius complained.

She thought for a moment and continued “I could make the potion quicker than a month but I’ve never seen it before, only heard about it. I’ll see if I can find some completed potion to speed it up so we can get out sooner. I can get the ingredients and find someone for you to impersonate. I suggest we go somewhere where there aren’t many wizards but a lot of people – a muggle city perhaps?”

Sirius was enthusiastic about the idea “Yes, let’s do it. I’ll take the risk and why not go to a muggle city and lose ourselves in the crowds. I assume you’re going to come with me?”

“Someone’s got to keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t get into trouble, haven’t they? Since it’s my idea I’ll be that person. Now in the meantime, let’s use a concealment charm and go for a walk in the glen. Just don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself while we’re out will you?” she told him.

True to her word, within the next few days she brought to the cave the kit and ingredients needed to make polyjuice potion. She had purchased the ingredients from the shop over several days, along with other items, so as not to draw attention to the exact recipe she was buying for. She had even taken some of the more common ingredients from the school supplies, along with an old cauldron she found at the back of a cupboard. 

Obtaining a part of person to impersonate was surprisingly straightforward. She found a pretext to visit a barber’s shop and whilst there she scooped up some hair cuttings. The man whose hair she had taken was someone she didn’t know aged around 40 years and of medium height, black curly hair and chocolate brown skin.

Now that she all the ingredients, Azalea knew she needed to find a completed potion so she could use her quicker method. The only place she thought she might find one nearby was in Snape’s office. She sat with Sirius outside the cave, discussing the problem. Buckbeak was grazing nearby; they had put a camouflage spell on him so any casual observer would see only a sheep. Azalea described the problem to Sirius, “I think I could sneak into Snape’s office but I don’t want to do it if he’s in there. I had thought about going in while he’s teaching but his classroom is close to his office and he might nip back to his office for something. I wish there was a way I could know where he was and then be able to judge how much time I’ve got.”

Sirius raged against the fates and said forcefully, “How is that Snape, a known Death Eater, got a cushy job at Hogwarts while I was incarcerated at Azkaban for twelve years for a crime I didn’t commit?”

Azalea responded evenly, “I can’t answer that, Sirius. You wizards seem to have a strange notion of justice. Where’s the concept of “innocent until proven guilty” in wizard law? Why should Dumbledore’s word be accepted above everyone else’s as to who is or isn’t guilty. The Dementors seem to be able to administer summary justice by sucking out souls at whim.”

“I wish one of them would suck out Snape’s soul, assuming he’s got one,” Sirius said bitterly.

Azalea didn’t want to be drawn into a discussion of Severus’ characteristics with Sirius who hated him when Azalea’s feelings were the exact opposite; instead she went back to the matter in hand. “Soul or no soul, can you think of any way to detect where he is to give me time to get into his office?”

Sirius thought for a while and then exclaimed, “The marauders map!”

“The marauders map? What’s that?” Azalea queried.

Sirius explained, “When we were at Hogwarts, James, Remus, Peter and I managed to enchant a map of Hogwarts using a homonculus charm to show where everybody was in Hogwarts. I’ve no idea what happened to the map once we left, but it might be possible to find it.”

“That could take ages, I wouldn’t know where to start,” began Azalea then she continued excitedly, “Could you make another one? Look I’ve got a normal map of Hogwarts.” She pulled out of her pocket the floor plan that Dumbledore had given her on her first day. “I still have to refer to it from time to time so I carry with me,” she said as she handed it to Sirius. He took the map and looked at it with an expression of longing on his face as he pointed at the rooms and reminisced about the happy days he had spent there in his youth. “Can you do it, can you make another one?” Azalea repeated impatiently. 

“Yes, I think so,” he said. He pointed his wand at the floor plan and said the incantation. Azalea saw the colours fly from his wand but the map remained unchanged. “I’m sure that’s right,” he said in a disappointed voice. “Four of us did it last time because we were a team, but one person can do it.”

Azalea was also frustrated with the lack of success, it had seemed like a perfect solution to the problem. Another part of her liked the idea of being able to spy on people’s whereabouts and she could guess what type of use the boys had put the map to after they’d created it. “Where were you when you made it?” she asked him.

“Gryffindor common room, I expect,” he replied, then he realised why she’d asked that question. “Do you think you might need to be actually in Hogwarts for the magic to work?”

“It’s worth a try isn’t it? Here give the map to me, I’ve seen what the spell looks like, I’ll go and try it out. I’ll be back in an hour or so,” Azalea said eager to try out her idea. Sirius handed her the map which she returned to her pocket and then levitated and flew off in the direction of Hogwarts Castle. She went into her chambers for privacy, pointed her wand at the floor plan and spoke the charm. The map flew from her hand; rising to the ceiling glowing with a white light so bright that she couldn’t look directly at it. A few seconds later she heard the map flutter to the floor and the light dimmed. She picked the map up from the floor and it felt warm to her hand, when she looked at it more closely she could see tiny footprints dotted over the map with a name next to them. She could see that Filius and Charity were in their offices as was Severus. The dormitories and common rooms were full of students and the footprints so close together she couldn’t make out one name from the next. She’d ask Sirius if they could be magnified so she could read them. She looked for her name on the map, but there were no footprints or name in her room, again it was something she could ask Sirius. 

She flew back to Sirius at the cave and showed him her success with the map. He pored over it looking for people he knew, starting with Harry. Between them they worked out how to magnify the names so they could discern them from a jumble of letters. They also devised a search spell to find a particular name out of the hundreds on the map. Sirius commented, “I wish we’d thought about a search spell with the original map, we used to spend ages trying to find names, especially Filch, you never knew where he could be and he was the main person we were trying to avoid.”

Azalea asked, “Why do you think my name doesn’t appear on the map?”

“It must be because you created it.” Sirius suggested.

“Could you see your name on the one you made?” she asked.

“Yes, but the four of us did the spell together so that might be the difference.”

Azalea pointed out other absences on the map, “I can’t see the house elves either.”

“I don’t know why that is, but they’re not the same as people are they?” Now he’d seen the success of the map Sirius was eager to use it and get on with making the polyjuice so he questioned her on her plans. “Once you’ve made sure Snape is well away from his office, how are you proposing to get into it and when are you going to do it?”

“I’m not telling you all my secrets, Sirius. I might need to get into other places by the same method,” she said light heartedly. “Now I’ve got the means I want to get it done as soon as possible before I lose my nerve. I shall do it at the first convenient opportunity.”

As it happened, the first convenient opportunity came later that day. Azalea was in her chambers studying and proof reading. She had been frequently checking on Severus’s movements, more frequently than she needed to but by doing so she felt connected to him in a way he hadn’t permitted since the New Year. She saw his footprints leave his office and head off to the other side of the castle. She knew the return journey would take about 15 minutes plus whatever time he spent at his destination. Now was a good a time as any to put her plan into action. 

She called out aloud “Winky.”

In a flash Winky was there as Azalea had known she would be, “Yes my lady, Winky is here to help,” she said.

“Winky, I need to you to take me inside Professor Snape’s office, now please,” Azalea said hoping that Winky would not put up an argument. House elves had access to all parts of the castle so they could fulfil their housekeeping duties. Azalea knew she was asking a lot of a house elf who were required to respect the privacy of the staff and students at Hogwarts and quite rightly so in Azalea’s opinion.

Winky said nothing but looked at Azalea with an expression of complete trust. She held out her hand in unquestioning obedience; Azalea clasped her hand and in a flash Winky had apparated into Snape’s office. Azalea had only been to his office on a couple of occasions and this was the first time she’d seen in daylight, or at least such daylight as could get in through the high level small windows. Against the walls were cabinets filled with bottles and jars of dried herbs and plants, others contained strange shapes floating in fluid, which reminded her of visits to museums as a child when she would stare in macabre fascination at pickled body parts and ill-formed foetuses. She took this in at a glance and walked quickly round seeking the potions themselves. 

“Winky,” she whispered, “do you know where Professor Snape keeps the potions he’s already made?”

Winky nodded and silently pointed to a glass fronted case in the darkest corner of the room. Azalea noticed at once that it was securely locked and, she had no doubt, warded with spells and hexes to deter thieves. She didn’t want to steal anything just look at it, but which was the polyjuice? Azalea peered into the cabinet and looked at the labels on the bottles, they were alphabetically arranged. Azalea smiled at Snape’s pre-occupation with order and was grateful for it today. Scanning down the rows of bottles she found the polyjuice, luck was once more with her because it was in the front row. She studied it carefully committing the colours and appearance to memory. “Let’s go now Winky,” she said holding out her hand and in a flash Winky took them back to her chambers. 

Snape returned to his office a few minutes after Azalea had left. As soon as he walked in the room he had a feeling that someone had been there. The lock on his door had not been tampered with and the windows were still shut. An experienced and highly accomplished wizard, he knew that magic left a trace and he looked carefully to detect any sign that magic had been used recently but there was no sign. He prowled around the cabinets to see if anything was missing or had been moved but again nothing. When he reached the cabinet where he kept the finished potions he smelt a faint aroma of vanilla and honey which he instantly associated with Azalea. No, she couldn’t have been in here; she didn’t have the skill to get past his defences. He inhaled another breath but this time there was nothing, any smell had dissipated or, worse, he had imagined it. He didn’t want to admit that were some of his defences that she could get past and they were nothing to do with locks and hexes.


	26. Excursions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius has fun with polyuice potion.

Azalea hastened to the cave; she needed to make the potion whilst the colours and incantations were fresh in her mind. Once she’d been successful the technique would be fixed in her brain and she could make the potion again. She didn’t want a return visit to Snape’s office, it was too much of an imposition on Winky and she couldn’t imagine being in his office for a legitimate reason any time soon.

She arrived at the cave as dusk was falling, the amber glow of the setting sun burnished on the hilltops. Sirius was standing outside; his shoulders slumped forward in a dejected manner. She called his name and he straightened up at once and walked quickly towards her. “I wasn’t expecting you again today. Has something happened? It’s not Harry is it?” he asked in a concerned voice.

“Harry’s fine, don’t worry. I managed to get a look at the polyjuice potion today and I want to make it before I forget. Come on let’s get on with it,” she said briskly heading for the cave and speaking to Sirius as she went. “All we need to do is to make sure that we have the ingredients in the correct proportions, there’s no need to cut them up into specific sizes or to add them to the brew in any particular order. Professor Snape calls it my pot mess method,” she commented with a grin which Sirius didn’t see in the dim light. 

“I couldn’t give a damn what Snivelus calls it,” Sirius replied bitterly.

Azalea stopped and said sharply, “What is it between you two? Why do you dislike each other so much?”

“He betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort – he was the one who told Voldemort the prophecy that led to their deaths and has now put Harry in danger!” Sirius explained heatedly.

“But before that. You’ve been bullying him since the first time you saw him,” she pressed on.

Sirius muttered a reply, “He was just one of those kids who had “victim” stamped all over him. It was only a bit of fun.”

“For you maybe, not for him. I’ve worked with kids who’ve been bullied – you have no idea what they go through, how they feel. How would like it if you were the one being bullied?” she asked.

“Snape could give as good as he got. He knew more curses before he came to Hogwarts than most people know when they leave. In any case, how do you think I felt suffering 12 years isolation in Azkaban? I’d trade being bullied over that in an instant,” he said heatedly.

Azalea rethought her next comment and just said. “All right.”

“Let’s get on with the potion.” Sirius said irritably. 

“O.K. let’s do that. Go and fetch the cauldron, the weighing scales and the ingredients and we’ll get started,” she instructed. After they had put the ingredients in the cauldron, Azalea consulted the recipe to see what the incantation was and checked with Sirius about how to pronounce it correctly. She took out her wand from her robes, closed her eyes to visualise the colours and appearance of the finished potion, pointed her wand at the cauldron and said the incantation.

Sirius watched with interest. He had never seen anyone attempt to make a potion in this way before, he wasn’t even aware that it was possible, but then Azalea was a remarkable woman, so if anyone could, it was her. As she finished the spell he could hear a gurgling sound come from the cauldron and he peered inside it. The ingredients were merging together into one amorphous lump, starting to undulate in slow motion, the way that molten magma does in a volcano, a bubble of air rising through the thick liquid, a dome shaped skin forming over it until the tensile strength was stretched beyond endurance and it snapped to release a puff of hot air. He watched fascinated and the process speeded up until the mixture was in a rolling boil. All at once the boiling stopped, there was no slowing down, one second it was threatening to spill over the sides of the cauldron and the next second there was a placid pool of thick mud at the bottom of the pot.

“That looks about right.” Azalea said feeling pleased with her success. “This is the base potion so when we want to use it we’ll take a small vial and add the hair of the person you’re going to impersonate.”

“Can’t we try it out now?” Sirius said eagerly. “We could go out to dinner somewhere; you know I’m always ready to eat.”

“We can’t go dressed like this,” Azalea said indicating the robes they were both wearing. “We’ll stick out like a sore thumb in a muggle restaurant and it’s too risky to go to a wizard one.”

“I can easily transfigure our clothes. Please let’s do it, I’m fed up with hiding. I need to do something before I go mad,” he begged and Azalea relented. She decanted a small amount of polyjuice potion into a vial and added a hair from the locks she had collected. The potion turned to bright orange and the consistency thinned to that of a cough syrup. 

“Let’s hope this was from the customer and I haven’t accidentally picked up dog’s hair,” she said to Sirius as she passed to him.

“I’m used to being a dog so it wouldn’t bother me,” he said as he drank the potion in one gulp. A burning sensation swept through his body and he felt as if he were melting, this was more uncomfortable than the animagus transformation. Gradually his skin changed colour deepening in tone until his entire body was a dark chocolate brown, he felt himself shrink in height by a couple of inches making his robes drag on the floor. His body filled out with well toned musculature overlaid in places by a small amount of body fat. 

Azalea noticed the glow around his body that she could always see when an object or person was enchanted; with a start she remembered seeing exactly the same colours around Mad-Eye Moody. To cover the fact that she had been staring she improvised with “Ooh you look good. I won’t be ashamed to be seen with you.”

“You mean you would before?” said Sirius not quite sure how to take her comment. His voice had changed into a well-modulated baritone.

“No! No that’s not what I meant. I mean I’m glad I picked up some hair from a good looking guy and not some overweight slob with no teeth who doesn’t wash from one week to the next. Of course I wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen with you, ever,” she justified her previous statement.

Sirius smiled and adopting a gallant demeanor said, “Let’s get dressed, my lady and we shall go and dine.” He waved his wand and his robe changed to a pair of straight legged jeans, a soft T shirt tucked into it, a flannel shirt over that and a black leather jacket. He changed her clothes into a pale green slip dress which reached only halfway to her knees, her amulet hanging on its chain and resting between her breasts.

“I’m not wearing this,” she protested, “it’s too cold for one thing and it shows half my body. Change mine into jeans and shirt like yours.”

“But you have such a lovely body, Azalea,” Sirius said coaxingly in his borrowed rich tone, “you shouldn’t hide it away like you do.”

“Change it to something more appropriate or I’ll do it myself,” she insisted. Sirius obliged and her dress became the jeans and shirt she’d asked for to which Azalea added a jacket. “You’ll have to apparate us,” she told him, “I haven’t passed the test yet. We should bring some more potion as a precaution in case this one wear’s off whilst we’re out.” She decanted some more of the base potion into the vial and added another hair. “O.K, it’s decision time - where shall we go?”

“Bristol?” suggested Sirius.

“Fine with me,” Azalea replied, “any particular reason?”

“I’ve never been there and I don’t know anyone who lives there, so that must reduce the chance of being discovered. Let’s go.” He held out his arm which Azalea took and he took them both to Bristol.

They appeared in the old town and walked through its narrow streets following part of the old city walls. Sirius, having been confined indoors for far too long, wanted to spend as much time as possible outside so they bought fish and chips to take away and ate them from the packet as they walked. As a precaution Azalea augmented the polyjuice disguise with a concealment charm. They talked as they walked, Sirius showing an interest in Azalea’s life, which had been so different from his own. He told her about how he had fallen out with his family due to their belief in their pureblood superiority and as a result his name had been blasted off the family tree. As they passed under a streetlight Azalea noticed that the polyjuice was starting to wear off and Sirius’s skin was becoming progressively paler. Azalea suggested that they should go back to the cave but having had a taste of freedom Sirius was in no hurry to return; he drank the other bottle of potion they had brought with them.

“One of Bristol’s claims to fame is the Clifton Suspension Bridge,” Azalea told Sirius, “shall we go and take a look?” 

He agreed and apparated them to one end of the bridge and they walked across, stopping part way to admire the view. Although it was dark, the lights on the bridge illuminated it to look like a web of dew twinkling in the sunlight. Standing in the centre of the bridge they were aware of the steep drop into the gorge below, the two towers on either side anchoring the structure to the land. The city gleamed in the distance and they could hear the soft drone of traffic filling the air. It was a clear night and the moon shone brightly but the lights from the bridge and city hid the fainter pin pricks of starlight. They finished crossing the bridge and headed off towards the nearby observatory which was shut at this time of night but the view over the bridge was worth the walk.

Sirius stopped and said to Azalea, “you don’t know how wonderful it is for me to be doing something as normal as taking a walk and having a casual conversation. I dreamed of doing this for years when I was in prison. It’s only a pity that I can’t do it wearing my own face but even that is better than being in Azkaban.”

“We shall definitely do it again, but now the polyjuice potion is wearing off, so it’s time to go back.” Azalea told him and reluctantly Sirius took them back to the cave. 

Over the next couple of weeks Azalea and Sirius went on several excursions to different places, they went to the cinema, ate out at restaurants or just walked taking in the wonders of the countryside or townscape. During those times they talked a great deal and became at ease with each other. Azalea enjoyed their time together and she started to believe that she was getting over her disappointment with Severus although she was not about to launch herself into another relationship until she was certain there was no hope of a reconciliation. Sirius started to put on weight and lost the gauntness of his appearance and Azalea could start to see the return of the handsome man that he once was. She commented upon it whilst they were sitting outside the cave after returning from a walk along the beach at Blackpool. “Sirius, you’re putting on weight and looking the better for it. If you keep that up you’ll be unrecognisable as the same man in the “wanted” posters of you. Maybe you won’t need to take the polyjuice any more and could go out as yourself.”

Sirius looked at Azalea in a way that made her feel slightly uncomfortable and said softly, “It’s not just the food, it’s you. You’ve done so much for me: making the polyjuice, going on excursions with me, bringing me food, keeping me company, talking to me. You make me feel like a man again and not just a prisoner.” He moved closer and leaned in towards her, at that moment a bird flew up from the heather making a loud squawk which made them both jump in alarm. Azalea leapt to her feet looking for the danger but could see none. Reassured that the bird was startled for reasons of its own, she sat down again tucking her amulet back inside her robes because it had become loose with her sudden movement. 

A couple of days later when she visited Sirius at the cave her opening comment to him was, “Sirius, I’ve just had a very strange conversation with Shona at the Post Office.”

“Oh have you?” he responded noncommittally.

“Yes. I went in to see if my next lot of proof reading had arrived yet and she said that she’d told me it hadn’t when I had come in that morning. Now, Sirius, the strange thing is that I hadn’t been in to the Post Office this morning – I was at lessons.” As she was speaking she crossed over to the place where the cauldron containing the polyjuice was kept and saw that there was a lot less left that she had expected. She picked it up and showed it to Sirius “You wouldn’t know anything about that would you and can you explain why the polyjuice is going down rather quickly?”

“Buckbeak knocked it over,” Sirius replied innocently.

“I’m impressed with his dexterity and ability to open up a closed box which is kept at the back of the cave where the ceiling is too low for him to stand,” she said sarcastically then continued in an exasperated voice, “Sirius, you’ve been impersonating me haven’t you?”

“Oh all right, yes I have but today was the first time I’d done it,” he owned up.

“But why? It was so risky. I’m so easily recognisable here in Hogsmeade. Luckily I managed to persuade Shona that I was anxious for work and was coming in again on the off chance the books had arrived at a later delivery. Now she’s going to send them to Hogwarts as soon as they arrive which will cost me more in delivery charges. What were you thinking of?” 

Sirius explained, “I have been going out when you’re not here but today I couldn’t find the container with the usual hairs in, so I picked a hair off my jacket and it was one of yours.”

“Did you know it was mine?”

“Not for certain but there was a good chance it was and I was right.” He change tone and continued in an ingratiating manner, “but you really do have a lovely body, Azalea.”

Azalea stared at him dumbfounded then the implications of what he had said hit her and she blushed bright scarlet. “You didn’t, please tell me you didn’t take a good look at my body.”

Sirius became aware of her discomfiture and toned down the explanation of what he had actually done whilst wearing her body, “Only while I was getting changed, I couldn’t go out in my tatty robe, so I took it off and put on something else before I transfigured them into clothes you would wear.”

Azalea stared at him appraisingly but decided she didn’t want any further explanation; in this case ignorance was bliss. Now her train of thought led her on to think of recreational uses that polyjuice could be put to: what about role reversal between consenting couples, or pretending to be someone else for your partner’s enjoyment and vice versa? On the other hand it would be possible to impersonate someone else in order to have sex with their partner or anyone else for that matter. Was there a business opportunity in polyjuice potion? Maybe people could sell their hair for use in polyjuice potion and you could have a catalogue of bodies to choose from. Perhaps such a thing already existed? No wonder wizards had no need of sex toys! Azalea became aware that Sirius was looking at her curiously whilst she’d been distracted thinking about polyjuice so she said, “Promise me you won’t impersonate me again, and I’ll say no more about it.”

“I promise,” he assured her at once, knowing that he would always prefer to be with her than to be her.

It was the last day of March. Azalea and Sirius had returned from another excursion this time from visiting Hadrian’s Wall. They were leaning against an outcrop of rock on the glen which overlooked Sirius’s cave but was out of view from any casual walker. “It’s nearly the Easter holidays,” Azalea told Sirius, “What are your plans? You could invite Harry to stay with you at your house. It would do you both good to get to know each other in more comfortable surroundings.”

“That’s a good idea, but will you come too? You should get to know him as well; after all you are his cousin.” Sirius asked.

“Yes I’d like that. My lodgers at home aren’t going away so I’d either have to stay here at Hogwarts or impose on Aunt Lucy or a friend. Where is your house anyway?”

“It’s in London. 12 Grimmauld Place to be exact,” Sirius told her.

“Grimmauld Place!” Azalea exclaimed. “I used to live in Grimmauld Place, it was a bit of dive to be honest, the road was well named – it is a grim old place! I always wondered why there was no number 12. Now I know - it’s a wizard house. I’m definitely coming to visit; I’m intrigued to see what it’s like.”

Sirius gave a short burst of laughter, “I wouldn’t expect too much. Number 12’s a bit of a dive too. I’m surprised you noticed there was no number 12 - most muggles don’t.”

“I’m not most muggles, am I?” she retorted in jest.

“You certainly aren’t,” he replied affectionately.

“This muggle now has to go back to Hogwarts, I’m really behind on my studies and proof reading.” She stood up and brushed the grass from her clothes. “By the way, I won’t see you tomorrow, I’m on lunch time and dinner duty. So once I’ve done that I’ll just try and catch up on my work and have an early night.”

"O.K,” he said. “I’ll stay here to watch the sun set then get some sleep.”

As she was walking away Azalea thought of something, “Have you got enough food to last tomorrow? If not I can send Winky with some.”

“Who’s Winky?” he asked.

“She’s my house elf.”

“You have a house elf?” he said in surprise.

“She’s not really mine, she’s a free elf employed by the school but she’s sort of adopted me. She’ll do anything for me but I don’t like to take advantage of her.” Azalea explained.

“That’s more than I can say for my house elf, Kreacher. I think he hates me. You’ll have the joy of meeting him when you come to stay.” Sirius said without much joy in his own voice. “About the food; Harry’s been sending me food too so I’ve got enough to last a couple of days. I can wait until I see you the day after tomorrow.”

“That’s fine, see you later.” With that Azalea rose into the air and flew back to Hogwarts. 

Sirius watched her until she was just a spot in the sky no bigger than a bird, thinking how lucky he was to have met her. She’d kept him sane over the past few weeks and he was indebted to her in so many ways. He was looking forward to welcoming her to Grimmauld Place and he hoped that her presence there would make it more like a home to him and not another prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the past few chapters have been Azalea centric but the next one won’t be!


	27. More Fool You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape looks back on the day he became a Death Eater

Today was 1st April, All Fools day in the muggle calendar. Snape congratulated himself that his foolish behaviour over the Christmas holiday was now behind him. Three months and he had barely spoken to her, except when necessary to respond to, or to ask her, a direct question in his classes or when common courtesy in public was demanded. There had been that one occasion by the muggle studies laboratory but she had clearly shown her disdain for him and that time Karkaroff had invited her join him at dinner. He had initially been perturbed by her continued presence in his class but as time went on he became used to it and it helped harden his resolve to forget any irrational attachment he might have to her and to remind that he everything he did was for Lily. He had half expected her to stop coming to his classes but why she continued to attend only she knew.

Following his little chat with Dumbledore, he no longer went to the owlery turret; he couldn’t have used the Dervish and Banges reason again. He didn’t want the headmaster to ask awkward questions, Dumbledore had a cunning way of extracting information from him, even things he did not want to share. Avoidance was easier than prevaricating. 

He paced around his office collecting the items he would need for his next lesson. As he reached up to pick something from the top shelf the sleeve of his robe slipped down and exposed the dark mark on his forearm. He stared at the mark and remembered the day he had got it.

He was approaching 19 years’ old; he’d left Hogwarts the previous summer having done well in his NEWTS with the best marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts and in Potions. He had got a job in the well-respected potion maker and supplier Scrips and Co. By the time he left the company some 3 years later to take up a teaching post at Hogwarts, he was a valued member of staff. He had demonstrated his ability to improve existing recipes, design new ones and the fortunes of the company had increased, due to a large part to his original thinking, ingenuity and business acumen. He had been a round peg in a round hole. However, at the start of his employment, before he had proved his worth, they had used him for little more than preparing the ingredients and taking orders from customers. He had chafed at the low level of work and his lack of status.

Snape had been working in the shop front the day Lily came in. He hadn’t seen her for months, since they had left Hogwarts. She looked as beautiful as he remembered, her auburn hair illuminating the dull interior of the shop like autumn sunshine breaking through the clouds. Her emerald green eyes widened in surprise when she saw him behind the counter. “Oh, hello Severus,” she greeted him with nervous courtesy, “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Yes, for a few months now,” he replied, being well aware these were virtually the first words they had spoken to each other since she had refused his apology for calling her a mudblood two years’ ago. He had so much he wanted to say but didn’t know how to start; instead he adopted his shop assistant demeanour, “How may I help you?”

She seemed to be relieved that he wasn’t going to raise the past and she rummaged around in her bag and produced a piece of paper. “I have a list here of some ingredients I need, do you stock them?” As she walked towards the counter and passed him the list he had a closer look at her, she looked careworn and tired, she had dark bags under her eyes and her skin had lost some of its luminosity. 

He read through the list, “Yes, we have most of these in stock. I can order the remainder for you; they’ll be here within 3 or 4 days.” He looked up from reading the list and said in the voice he used for showing an interest in his customers, “How are you keeping these days?”

“I’m fine thank you” she replied formally. 

“What have you been doing since we left Hogwarts?” he enquired as he started to get down the jars with the ingredients on her list ready to weigh out the quantities.

“I have been accepted for auror training but that doesn’t start until next year. In the meantime I’m just helping out at Hogwarts, mostly Professor Slughorn with his potions classes.”

“You always were his favourite, he had high hopes for you,” Snape said as he weighed out some stinkhorn fungi. “Is this order for him?”

“Yes. He said that Scrips was the best stocked potion store there is.”

Snape smiled his shop assistant smile, “I’m glad we have such a good reputation among eminent potion makers.” 

He continued to get her order together whilst she waited at the counter, fidgeting slightly before she blurted out quickly, “James and I have recently become engaged; we’ll be getting married early next year.”

Snape had his back to her whilst getting some snake scales from a bottle behind the counter, so she didn’t see the look of pain that crossed his face. He composed himself and turned to face her and trotted out the inane pleasantries that he utilised when talking to customers, “Congratulations, I hope you’ll be happy together.” Was it his imagination or did he detect a fleeting expression of sadness in her face? “What is Potter doing now he’s left Hogwarts?”

“Oh, he’s considering his options. There are so many things he could do..” she started to say when the doorbell jangled and another customer walked in. 

“Well, well if it isn’t Snilvelus,” drawled a voice, which Snape instantly recognised as James Potter’s, “I see you’ve finally found your place in life – serving your betters. Hop to it then boy, don’t keep the lady waiting, we haven’t got all day.”

“At least I have a job,” Snape retorted at once, “which is more than you do while you’re “considering your options”. I’m surprised you actually have any options since you did so badly in your NEWTS, the best you can hope for is to carry on the way you always have and live off someone else!”

He heard Lily take a short intake of breath at his last words; he glanced at her and saw her turn pale and it struck him that he’d inadvertently stumbled on the truth – Potter was going to live off Lily’s earnings! 

“What my fiancée and I do is our business,” responded Potter angrily, which further confirmed Snape’s suspicion. Potter then put his arm around Lily and pulled her close to him. Snape heard Lily giggle in a simpering manner. He was shocked, the Lily Evans he knew would never simper.

Potter let go of Lily and ambled towards the counter where Snape had been placing Lily’s purchases that he had already weighed out and bagged up. With an unexpected action Potter swept his arm across the counter and every one of the bags landed on the floor and split open. Potter shouted loudly, “You clumsy idiot, Snape. Look what you’ve done! We’re not having those ingredients. You’ll have to start again.”

Snape was angry now and unable to keep his temper in check he yelled, “Why don’t you grow up Potter! See that sign “customers must pay for any breakages”? You can pick them up and pay for them. I’m not some skivvy to clear up after you!” 

Hearing raised voices Mr Scrips, the proprietor of the shop, came rushing in. He took in the spilled ingredients on the floor with his young assistant shouting at a customer. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.

Potter turned towards Mr Scrips, and in attitude of an aggrieved customer he said in a laconic tone, “Your shop boy here dropped my order on the floor and is expecting me to still buy them.”

“That’s not what happened!” Snape told his employer heatedly, “He deliberately threw them on the floor!” Snape looked at Lily in mute appeal for corroboration. 

Intercepting his look, Potter put his arm around Lily and said in an ingratiating way, “my fiancée saw what happened, didn’t you darling?” Lily nodded, avoiding Snape’s eye but making no comment. “See” said Potter in triumph, “it happened the way I said.”

Mr Scrips was fully aware that Lily had not agreed with Potter but did not wish to alienate customers, especially where Hogwarts business was concerned, so he instructed Snape, “Redo the order then clear up this mess.” He stayed in the shop to make sure there was no further altercation between the two men. Scrips considered Snape to be one of the best salesmen he’d ever employed, not only was he knowledgeable and authoritative about all aspects of potion making and gave good advice to customers, he also had a way of appearing completely sincere when he sold them products they neither needed nor desired; his acting was masterful. 

Snape did as he was told, seething with the injustice of the situation and feeling perplexed and angry at Lily for not telling the truth about what had happened.

When he had finished work for the day he was still in an ill humour. At that time in his life he had remained in contact with several of his Slytherin Housemates: - Evan Rosier, Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Black, Barty Crouch the younger, Crabbe and Goyle – (the latter being the fathers of the Crabbe and Goyle he now taught, who were as stupid as their fathers and who proved that the apple never fell far from the tree). Snape and his cohorts had all been interested in the Dark Arts at school, but the strictures of school life meant they couldn’t give free rein to their ideas and views. It wasn’t long before they had been drawn into the circle of Voldemort. 

The first time he had met Voldemort was at a meeting in Knockturn Alley. Voldemort was a persuasive and charismatic speaker, even his snake like appearance added to his mystery: - he looked like a man who was willing to give his all for his beliefs. His audience was made up largely of angry young men looking for a cause to support and a scapegoat on whom to blame their misfortunes – who better than mudbloods and muggles – the non-magical, people less important than the worst wizard. At the end of that first meeting several of Snape’s companions had volunteered for the dark mark straight away but he had held back. He was not so easily swayed by smooth talking and an exotic look. This day, however, he felt differently.

He had agreed to meet some of his former classmates in Knockturn Alley to listen to another of Voldemort’s diatribes on wizard supremacy. He arrived at the meeting place; it was in a large room at the back of one of the bars that were common in Knockturn Alley at that time. The room was gloomy, a few candles were lit along the side and back walls but none of the illumination was sufficient to make out who people were if they chose to hide their faces. Snape entered the room and once his eyes had adjusted to the lighting conditions he worked his way through the crowded room to his gang of Slytherins, he bought himself a drink and sat down with them. The atmosphere in the bar was one of excitement, Lord Voldemort was to speak to them, to rally the troops and gain new soldiers. A door at the back of the room opened and silence fell as Lord Voldemort came in flanked by some of his supporters. Snape recognised Lucius Malfoy, who was a few years’ older than him and Regulus Black, brother to Sirius, he was gratified to note that at least one member of the Black family was proud of their pureblood heritage. 

Lord Voldemort stood towards the centre of the room and started to speak, he didn’t need to raise his voice; no one would dare to speak or interrupt him. He stretched his arms out to each side as if he were embracing the entire room. “My dear friends,” he began, “I’m so glad you could join me, we are the elite, the chosen ones of the wizard race, and we have a task before us, an enormous task I know, but I have faith that we are more than up to the challenge ahead.”

Snape looked around the dingy room and thought cynically that this was a fine place for the elite of the wizard world to be assembled. Lord Voldemort looked at Snape directly in the eyes and as if he had read Snape’s mind and he continued to speak, “I know we are starting from humble beginnings but we won’t always have to hide in dark places and meet in secret. The wizard world is contaminated by mudbloods. The muggles take up most of the land with their huge numbers and evil machines, forcing the true born wizard to live in the shadows, fearful of discovery. We are the ones who should be living in the sunlight; we are the ones who should decide how to rule the world. The muggles should submit to our power, they are not worthy to be our equals, they are our slaves. Their blood must no longer be allowed to contaminate that of the trueborn wizard. They must know their place and we are the ones to make them learn it. Those muggles that won’t submit shall be eliminated. Any wizard that helps a muggle is a traitor and will share the same fate. I have the power to change the world and anyone who joins me will share in that power. There are only the powerful in the world or those too weak to seek power.” He then spoke is a cajoling, seductive voice, “My friends, don’t be weak, join my Death Eaters and share a new world with me; a world free of deceitful, disloyal mudbloods and ignorant muggles. A world for the trueborn powerful wizard made in our image and to serve our needs! Come my friends, join me.”

Lord Voldemort then walked around the room going to each table in turn, explaining his vision, answering questions and putting his dark mark on those willing to volunteer that night. When he came to the gang of Slytherin’s table he sat next to Snape and spoke quietly to him, “I see a conflict in you. Has someone betrayed you and not accepted your apology?” Snape regarded Voldemort with surprise; he nodded in awe at the man’s insight. “My young friend,” continued Voldemort in the same quiet voice, “be among the first to join me and all will be well. You will be high in my army, a leader who people must listen to, anyone who betrays you will pay the price and you need never apologise again. You will be a prince among men and I will be your king. What we do is right and the world will be a better place for it. Come, my friend give me your arm and accept my mark.”

Snape’s companions on the table were stunned at Voldemort singling out one of their number for his personal attention. Beguiled by Voldemort’s words and flattered by his attention Snape pulled up the left sleeve of his shirt and held out his forearm to Voldemort. He wished to join with someone who wanted him, unlike Lily who had betrayed him today by not stating the truth and who had never forgiven him for a childish insult made years ago in the heat of the moment. 

Voldemort placed the tip of his wand to Snape’s forearm; Snape felt a searing pain as the mark was burned into arm. He flinched but didn’t scream, it reminded him of the time when his own father has stubbed out a cigarette on Snape’s leg for some imagined transgression. Thinking of his muggle father made Snape more certain that he was making the right choice to rid the world of such people. Voldemort removed the wand and said, “Welcome.” Indicating the other people in the room he continued, “You now bear my mark, it unites us all. You must come when I call and carry out my wishes. We will win, we will prevail. Thank you my friend.” Voldemort then rose from his seat in a fluid snake like movement and continued his route around the room.

The other former Slytherins at the table cheered and congratulated Snape for joining the Death Eaters and they all proudly showed each other the brands on their arms. Snape felt full of hope for the future and a sense of belonging with a band of brothers all committed to the same cause.


	28. Still Falling

His reminiscences over Snape stared at the dark mark on his arm and recalled an incident a couple of weeks ago when Karkaroff had invaded his classroom. Snape had been trying to avoid Karkaroff not wishing to discuss the past with him, but Karkaroff was correct about the dark mark, it had been getting clearer over the past few months, the implication being that the Dark Lord was rising. As bad luck would have it Potter was in the classroom when Karkaroff was expressing his concern but Potter had managed to leave before Snape had been able to reprimand him. Snape disliked that boy with an intensity that surprised him considering how much he had loved the boy’s mother. She was the reason he had taken the path he had; why he had allowed Dumbledore to blackmail him into an agreement to keep him from Azkaban; why he was tied to Hogwarts, teaching dunderheads; why he was about to embark on the most dangerous thing he had ever done – being a spy in the Voldemort camp. The things people do for love. Voldemort always said that love made you weak but Snape didn’t agree with that, he would not have been able to survive all these years without his love for Lily to carry him through and now it would have to be stronger still to continue the fight against Voldemort, who had murdered her. 

Snape pulled his shirt sleeve back over the dark mark and went to stand by the window to put the students’ homework papers in his bag ready to take to the next lesson. It was lunch time and the day was sunny, a few rays of sunshine had managed to find their way into his office and the flecks of dust danced in the light. Outside sounds came through the window, the hum of conversation from the students enjoying a break from the bleak interior of the school, a rustle of breeze blowing through the bright spring colours of the newly opened leaves on the trees, he could even hear the buzz of a bee’s wings as it searched for the sweet nectar hidden in the depths of a flower. Suddenly, the tranquillity was interrupted by a sharp scream, followed by a dull thud. He looked up from his task and heard the sound of running feet muted by the damp grass and a voice, which he recognised as Granger’s, shout in anguish, “Azalea! Leah!” 

He dropped everything he was holding, tore open the door of his office, not bothering to shut it after him, he sped along the corridor running at a speed he hadn’t realised he was still capable of, took the stairs two at a time and threw open the door to the garden. Still running he rounded the corner and took in the scene before him. A crowd of students were standing around someone lying on the floor, he slowed down to a brisk walk and shouted “Out of my way!” to the assembled students, at once a path was made through the sea of people and he had a full view of the person lying at such an unnatural angle on the ground. His gut wrenched into a hard knot inside him, his heart felt as though it was trying to leap out of his body, the world spun before him and he felt sick to his stomach, it was Azalea. All thoughts of his past were dashed from his mind; gone was his self-congratulation for getting over his foolish behaviour: all he could see was Azalea lying lifeless on the ground. He wanted to run to her, to hold her, to make sure she was all right. He fought his body for control, taking deep breaths to calm himself he walked up to her at the same time saying, “Has anyone gone for Madam Pomfrey?”

“Yes,” said a tearful Granger who was kneeling by Azalea, “Ron’s gone to get her.”

“What happened?” he demanded to the crowd in general.

“She fell from the balcony,” someone said. 

“She didn’t fall, there was a fight, I saw wand fire, just before she went over,” countered another voice.

Several voices then joined in giving their version of events until Snape couldn’t distinguish one story from the next, “Enough!” he shouted.

“Is she.. Is she dead?” he heard someone whisper loudly.

Was she dead? He couldn’t bear to think that she might be dead but now he had to find out. He knelt down beside her on the opposite side to Granger. He gently lifted Azalea’s hair away from her neck, her hair was so fine it felt like spun silk, he let it go and put his fingers to her neck to feel for a pulse, her skin was warm and soft, she lay as if she were sleeping, her eyes closed, “please be alive, please be alive” he thought over and over again as he moved his fingers to locate the artery in the soft hollow of her neck next to the windpipe. There! He felt it a pulse, her heart was still beating. Was she breathing? He removed his hand from her neck and put his face next to hers so that his cheek was in line with her nose and mouth, he could feel a gentle breath touch his cheek, he waited, in case it was an errant breeze. There it was again, and again, a regular shallow breath. He wanted to stay where he was, his face by her face so he’d be the first thing she’d see when she woke up, but he couldn’t, not in such a public place. “She’s alive,” he announced to the waiting crowd and moved his head away from hers. 

“Shouldn’t she be kept warm?” he heard someone say and he immediately removed his cloak and laid it over her. As he pulled away he noticed she was wearing a chain around her neck which had slipped out from under her robes as she fell. Forgetful of the watching students he eased out the chain which had become entangled in her robes, at the end of it was an amulet, the very same one that he had given to her on the day of the Christmas Ball. He laid it carefully down against her chest his heart filled with questions as to why she still wore it. 

He sat up quickly and said impatiently “How much longer before Madam Pomfrey gets here? I’m going to take her to the hospital wing.” He then stood and went to the side and made ready to pick her up.

“No sir, don’t touch her!” Hermione said urgently, but seeing the look of fury on Snape’s face at being spoken to like that she hastened to explain, “If she has a spinal injury you could make it worse by moving her, we must wait until Madam Pomfrey gets here to examine her.”

Snape hated being spoken to like that by a student but his concern for Azalea overrode his urge to snap back a spiteful reply to Granger. Instead, he turned to the assembled students and snapped at them, “There’s nothing more to see here. Madam Pomfrey is on her way and you have classes to go to, now leave.” One by one the students left until only Granger, Potter and Snape were by her side. 

“You two as well,” ordered Snape.

“But sir, she’s the only family I’ve got,” said Potter in a mournful voice that Snape had never heard come from Potter before. 

“She’s my friend,” Hermione pointed out, “and Ron will expect us to be here when he gets back with Madam Pomfrey.” She glanced up as a movement caught her eye. “Speaking of which, here they are now.” They all looked in the same direction and could see Ron, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore walking quickly towards them across the lawn. 

Hermione left her place by Azalea’s side and, together with Harry, walked towards the three people approaching them to explain what had happened and confirm that Azalea was still alive. Snape was left alone with Azalea and he knelt back down next to her. Once again he resisted the urge to hold her, but he gave in to his need to kiss her and he brushed his lips against hers half wishing that his kiss would wake her up like it did in the muggle fairy story. It didn’t of course. He could hear that the others were now approaching and he had to find a reason for him being this close to Azalea, so he removed his cloak which had been covering her and stood up to face the others.

Madam Pomfrey bustled up and took over with practiced efficiency. “Did any one move her after she fell?” she asked after checking for Azalea’s vital signs and being assured that she was still alive.

“No,” responded Snape shortly, glancing over at Hermione.

“Good,” she replied, “she may have a spinal injury and any movement could make it worse. I shall put her into a medical body bind to prevent any accidental movement but she needs to go to St Mungo’s Hospital, I don’t have the facilities to look after her properly here.”

“I’ll take her,” Snape offered immediately.

Dumbledore looked at him through narrowed eyes, “That won’t be necessary Professor Snape, you have classes to teach; I shall accompany Madam Pomfrey to St Mungo’s. Now Harry, Ron and Hermione, you must go to your lessons, I promise I’ll let you know as soon as we hear anything about Miss Bennett’s condition.”

Snape swung his cloak back over his shoulders in irritation at being put down like that by Dumbledore. As he did so something fell from one of its pockets. Harry picked it up and said “I think you dropped this, Professor” and handed him a red Swiss army knife.

Snape took it from Harry without thanking him but addressed Hermione, “Miss Granger, sometimes it helps to be an insufferable know it all.” With that he stalked off back to his office still holding the Swiss army knife in his hand as if it was a delicate flower that needed protection.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other in amazement, “If I’m not mistaken that was an admission that you were right, Snape style” said Harry to Hermione and they walked off together to their next lesson.

As they continued towards the building, Hermione said thoughtfully to the two boys, “I think that Professor Snape is in love with Azalea.”

Harry and Ron looked at her in disbelief and simultaneously let out a short burst of laughter. Ron said “Hermione, that’s the maddest thing you’ve ever said, Snape isn’t capable of falling in love.”

“Unless he’s taken one of his own potions,” added Harry.

“You didn’t see him,” Hermione protested. “When he was checking to see if Azalea was still alive, he was so gentle and tender with her. He looked distraught to me.”

“I bet the only thing he was worried about was that if she was dead then one of his Slytherins would be up for murder. It was bound to be them fighting which made her fall off the balcony in the first place,” concluded Ron. 

Hermione was not convinced but said no more.

Back in his office, Snape went over to the table by the window to repack his bag for the next lesson, which he was now late for. The scrolls were scattered over the floor where he had dropped them in his hurry to get to Azalea. He swept his hand over the fallen scrolls and packed his bag in an instant. Since she had shown him wandless magic it he used it almost without thinking. He was still holding the Swiss army knife, which he had carried around with him since the day she had given it to him. It had come in useful on many occasions and now he wondered how he had ever got along without it. It was funny how you’d get along without things for years but once you’d had them they became indispensable and part of your life. It had taken Azalea’s near death for him to realise how much she meant to him, he didn’t want to get along without her, he wanted her back in his life, just like the Swiss Army knife. He returned it to his pocket and left for his lesson, half out of his mind with worry about Azalea and promising himself he would make it up to her when she was better.


	29. Witness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape discovers what happened on the balcony

Snape arrived at his lesson for the first years and the students noticed immediately that he was in foul mood even by his own standards. He’d been late and everyone knew Snape was never late, by being early or on time he could single out tardy students who arrived after him for particular criticism. No one dared do the same to him for not being on time. He marched into the classroom, threw his bag onto the table and pulled out the homework he had marked and walked swiftly around the classroom delivering a caustic comment with almost every piece of work he returned. 

“Did you read the same question as everyone else?”

“You’re improving you’ve gone from a T to a D.”

“Where was your brain when you did this, did you swap it with a donkey? No, I think not - a donkey would have given a better answer.”

“In your case you can only get better, there’s nothing below a T.”

“Have no fear of perfection - you'll never reach it.”

Once the homework had been handed back he wrote the instructions for the potion they were to make on the board and told them to get on with it. He marched around the classroom finding fault with everything and everyone, even the Slytherins in the classroom were not immune from his criticism. He managed to reduce a couple of the younger pupils to tears but it gave him no satisfaction in the way it usually did. He didn’t stop moving as if by standing still his anxiety would overwhelm him. The lesson finally drew to a close, much to the relief of both the students and the teacher. Before dismissing the class Snape announced that he would be coming to the Slytherin Common Room before dinner and he expected all members of the house to be there. The Slytherin students in this class were to let the others know. The classroom emptied quickly and quietly.

Snape gathered the homework given in at this lesson and put it in his bag wondering how he would concentrate on marking it. He’d rarely felt so powerless to do anything to calm his fear and worry over something as out of his control as the welfare of another person. Was it really only three short hours ago when he’d been congratulating himself for overcoming his foolish behaviour with regard to Azalea? It had all been an illusion, he had lied to himself. Pride came before a fall. In wry amusement he thought maybe that wasn’t the best phrase to use given the circumstances but he knew Azalea would have seen the humour in it. There was one thing he could do and that was to find out how the accident had happened, starting with questioning the Slytherins.

Shortly before dinner Snape made his way down the staircase from the dungeon corridor to the Slytherin Common Room. He stopped at an apparently blank piece of wall and said the password. A stone door concealed in the wall slid open. A short corridor led to the common room and he strode in. He was as familiar with the common room as he was with his own house, perhaps even more so, having spent so many years of his life within its walls. He no longer noticed the dungeon like proportions of the room with its low ceilings and rough stone walls, the latter of which were decorated with tapestries featuring famous Medieval Slytherins. From the ceiling hung circular greenish lamps and the room was furnished with black and green leather sofas and chairs; dark wood cupboards were located against the walls. The furnishings and decor gave the room a grand atmosphere but also a cold one and the room was tinged with a green light. A fire was burning beneath an elaborately carved mantelpiece but its warmth was hardly needed today. The room was packed with Slytherin students and with the combined heat from the fire and the crowd, the room was rapidly over heating. Snape was unconcerned with the comfort of the students and he addressed them without any preamble.

“You will be aware that today one of the teachers, Miss Bennett, fell from the balcony and is currently in St Mungo’s Hospital in a critical condition.” Snape had no idea what her condition actually was but wanted to impress upon the students the seriousness of the situation. He continued, “There have been reports of shouting and wand fire just before she fell. I know that the corridor where the incident occurred is a favourite place for Slytherin students to congregate during break time, so if any of you have any information as to the cause of the accident then you will tell me.” He moved his gaze around the room and fixed his steely stare at one or two of the students most likely to have been involved. He got nothing from them and there were too many students in the room for him to read every one. Nevertheless his silent stare made many in the crowd feel uncomfortable and they started to fidget and avoid his gaze. 

The silence was broken when a malicious drawl from Malfoy came from the back of the room, “Why does it matter, she’s a mudblood and the world could do with a few less of them?”

Snape had never felt as angry towards his favourite pupil as he did at that moment and with a supreme effort he prevented himself from flinging Malfoy across the room with a well aimed spell. Instead he said in a tightly controlled voice, “It matters Malfoy because people are quick to accuse Slytherins to be the cause of anything bad that happens in this school, whether or not is our fault. If we are not at fault then I will proclaim it from the rooftops, if any of you were the cause of the accident then I will do my best to mitigate the damage. I can do neither of those things until I know the facts. Therefore, you all have until the end of today to own up and tell me what happened. I will be in my office from after dinner until bedtime. If I hear nothing by then I will not be able to protect or defend you from the repercussions. You have been warned.” He turned his back on the students and left as swiftly as he had arrived.

Dinner passed in an agony of uncertainty for Snape. Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey had not yet returned from the hospital to report how Azalea was doing. Professor McGonagall informed the students that a teacher had been injured and asked the students to let their Head of House know if they had any information about the accident. The mood at the staff table was sombre. Charity and Filius were openly anxious about Azalea’s condition and spent most of the meal speculating about what could have happened. Snape was acutely aware of the absence of Azalea’s merry laugh drifting up the table to reach his ears. Yesterday he would have grimaced at her levity but today he wanted nothing more than to hear her laugh or cry or speak or even shout at him in anger – anything other than the silence where she used to be. 

Snape finished his meal and left as early as he could. As he passed the Slytherin table he pointedly glared at them to remind them to come to his office should they have anything to tell him. He went to his office and waited. Sitting at his desk he took out some of the homework scripts that had been handed in to mark and looked over them in a desultory fashion. Every time he heard someone pass his office he stopped and listened but no one came in. It was almost time for students to go to bed and he had reached the conclusion that they weren’t going to be any help. He pushed the scripts to one side and leaned back in the chair aching with disappointment when he heard a quiet knock on the door. He sat up straight away saying “enter” in his usual brusque fashion.

The door opened slowly and a child sidled in closing the door quickly behind him as if he was fearful of being seen by anyone outside the room. Snape recognised the boy as Graham Pritchard, one of the first years he had reduced to tears at the lesson earlier that day. The boy was not a typical Slytherin and Snape had wondered how the Sorting Hat could ever have put such a quiet shy child into his house. It must have taken some courage for the boy to come to his office and Snape knew that now was not the time for him to intimidate the child, so he asked him in a level voice “Well, Pritchard, do you have anything to tell me about Miss Bennett’s accident?”

“Yes sir,” whispered the boy, “it was Professor Moody who threw her over the balcony.”

Snape snapped to attention, of all the scenarios he had imagined, this one had never crossed his mind. He stood up and walked round his desk to stand next to Pritchard. “Come” he said to the boy, “let’s sit by the fire and you can tell me exactly what happened. Would you like a drink of pumpkin juice?”

Pritchard nodded and sat on one of the chairs. Snape poured two goblets of juice from the jug on his desk, handed one to boy and kept one for himself which he placed on a nearby table. He sat on the other chair and waited while Pritchard took a sip of his juice, Snape could see that the goblet shake as he raised it to his lips, the boy was nervous. 

“Take your time, Pritchard,” said Snape with a genuine intention of not rushing him. 

Pritchard, however, heard it as a sarcastic comment intended to goad him in to telling his story and he rushed to begin, “Miss Bennett was on lunch time duty and was patrolling the corridor. There were lots of Slytherins up there. I don’t like it when there are too many because they tease me for being quiet and I hid behind one of the suits of armour so they wouldn’t see me. I was going to wait until they’d gone away.” Graham stole a glance at Snape expecting him to make a cutting comment about Graham’s cowardice but none came and he continued with a little more confidence in his voice, “Then I heard shouting and arguing. Some Ravenclaw students wanted to get by and the Slytherins wouldn’t let them. I saw some wand fire and I was going to sneak away while no one was looking but then Miss Bennett ran up.” He then looked at Snape properly and said with awe, “she just shouted “Stop!” really loudly and every one stopped, even me.” 

“Yes,” murmured Snape, “I’ve seen her do that. Carry on.”

“I heard her tell them off. She said they had to apologise to each other or they’d all have detention. They mumbled something and went off in the other direction. I was about to come out from behind the armour when I noticed Professor Moody walking towards me so I stayed where I was. Miss Bennett must have seen him too, because she called his name.” Graham glanced at Snape again and took another sip of his pumpkin juice turning the goblet in his hands in a nervous gesture but he continued his tale resolutely. “Professor Moody was acting weirdly. He had that bottle he’s always drinking from and was trying to take a sip when Miss Bennett caught up with him. She looked at him as if she could see something strange about him. More strange than he usually is anyway.” Graham added as an aside and Snape began to warm towards the boy. “She went up really close to him and said something that I couldn’t make out, then Professor Moody seemed to change, I mean he began to look different, but he got really angry and pulled out his wand and blasted her over the balcony. She didn’t have a chance to get her own wand out. Professor Moody then took a swig out of his bottle and hurried away.” Pritchard paused but Snape made no comment so Pritchard finished off his tale. “I came out from behind the armour and looked over the balcony where I could see Miss Bennett lying on the grass with lots of people round her so I went away.” He finished his narration and then asked nervously, “Professor Snape, you aren’t going to tell Professor Moody I was there are you?”

Snape felt a measure of sympathy for Pritchard, he had accused Professor Moody, who was known to be unstable, of an act of violence, and told his story to another Professor (Snape) of whom Pritchard was terrified. “No, Pritchard, I think this is a matter for the Headmaster to decide. Let’s go and see him now.” 

Pritchard finished up his pumpkin juice, Snape’s was untouched on the table beside his chair, and followed the professor to the Headmaster’s office. Dumbledore was in his office and had clearly been there for a while, which irritated Snape because Dumbledore hadn’t taken the trouble to tell him about Azalea. 

“Headmaster,” said Snape, “Pritchard here has some information about the accident which befell Miss Bennett, but before he begins please would you tell us how she is. It may have a bearing on Pritchard’s story.”

Dumbledore had not been intending to tell Snape anything about Miss Bennett until the next day when he made a general announcement to the school but he could hardly refuse to answer a direct question. “Her physical injuries were not as bad as expected; the healers think she must have been able to cushion her fall in some way. There is no lasting spinal damage, she has some broken bones which have been set but she is yet to regain consciousness. The healers have no idea how long she may be unconscious and she is to remain at St Mungo’s for the time being,” he said matter-of-factly. “Now Pritchard let me hear your story.”

As Pritchard re-told his story for the headmaster, Snape was thinking only of Azalea, she wasn’t critically injured but would she ever wake up? Of course she would, by tomorrow she’d be fine. He’d find out when Charity or Filius were going to visit her, as he was sure they would, and ask them to let him know how she was doing. Maybe he could even go himself. He’d like to do that but he didn’t want anyone to find out how much he cared. He’d wait a bit longer and see how well she recovered. 

Distracted by his thoughts of Azalea, Snape was only half aware that Pritchard had finished telling his tale to Dumbledore. As he refocused his attention on the boy he saw Dumbeldore raise his wand and point it at the boy’s head. “No!” shouted Snape, realising at once what Dumbledore was doing. He raised his hand to sweep the wand from Dumbledore’s hand but he was too late to stop the headmaster from performing a memory charm on Pritchard wiping the events he had just related out of his head. “Why did you do that?” Snape demanded furiously, “he was telling the truth. I know he was.”

“Now we both know the truth too,” said Dumbledore calmly. He then addressed Pritchard, “you can go back to your dormitory now Graham, thank you for your help. You’ll sleep well tonight.”

Looking somewhat bemused at being in the headmaster’s office, with an angry Professor Snape, Pritchard practically ran out of the office.

Snape repeated his question, “Why did you do that?”

“I wiped his memory to protect him,” explained Dumbledore, “if Professor Moody knows there were witnesses then the child could be in danger.”

“What about Moody?” demanded Snape, “How can he be brought to justice if there are no witnesses?”

“Miss Bennett can explain when she wakes up,” said Dumbledore calmly.

“And if she doesn’t wake up?” asked Snape with fear in his heart.

“Then I shall give my word about the truth of what the boy said”, Dumbledore stated. 

“Why should your word count for more than the testimony of an actual witness?” questioned Snape passionately.

Dumbledore countenance subtly altered and he regarded Snape with a domineering look, “You, of all people, should know the value of my word.”

“I do,” conceded Snape, “but it was at a price.”

“A price you have yet to pay in full.” Dumbledore reminded him. “Don’t let this incident with Miss Bennett affect your judgement. I will consider what to do about this information regarding Professor Moody. You need take no further action.” 

At breakfast the next morning, Flitwick cornered Snape and let him know that two of his Ravenclaw students had told him about the altercation with the Slytherins just before Azalea had fallen from the balcony. “They assured me that both the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins had moved away from her minutes before she fell and there was no one else on the corridor at the time.” Flitwick told him, “So it would seem that our students were not to blame.”

Snape responded icily, “Then who was to blame?” He instantly regretted his attitude, Flitwick didn’t have to tell him that the Slytherins were not involved so he continued more moderately. “Are you planning to visit Miss Bennett at St Mungo’s? You could ask her what happened.”

Flitwick was a little surprised at Snape’s change of tone and his further question, it was unusual for Snape to enquire about other people movements but, ever polite, Flitwick replied, “Yes, Charity and I are going after lessons. Why don’t you come with us?”

“No!” Snape responded quickly, too quickly, and blustered on, “I don’t know her as well as you do and we’ve hardly spoken recently.” He made as if to walk away but then added quietly, “You’ll let me know how she is, won’t you?”

“Of course,” replied Filius.


	30. Bearer of Bad News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape tells Lucy about Azalea's accident.

Filius and Charity were not at dinner that evening. Snape consoled himself with the fact that they must still be visiting Azalea. Why had be refused to go with them? If he’d gone he wouldn’t now be in this limbo of not knowing. On the other hand, if he had gone he may have betrayed his feelings in front of them when he saw her. He could wait, he could be patient. He’d waited all these years to get his revenge against Voldemort for killing Lily. He spotted Moody coming in to the dining room and he filled up with rage. He rushed over towards him not really knowing what he intended to do but he was almost beyond caring. Suddenly Dumbledore was standing in his way; he never knew the old man could move so fast; he hadn’t even noticed that he was in the dining hall. “Severus,” said Dumbledore sharply, “I told you I’d deal with Professor Moody. Please return to your seat.”

“And what have you done about it so far?” demanded Snape shaking with anger.

“I’ve asked him about his whereabouts when the accident happened and he said he was in his office.” 

“Do you seriously think he’s going to own up just like that?” Snape demanded incredulously.

“I’ve known the man for years. He wouldn’t attack a defenceless woman unless he was provoked.” explained Dumbledore.

Snape was incensed with indignation and hissed at Dumbledore. “So now it’s Leah’s fault is it? She brought on herself, provoked him with a single sentence? Pritchard was telling the truth. I’d believe him over Mad-Eye Moody any day of the week. You should look beyond your old loyalties Dumbledore, you can be just as mistaken as the rest of us.”

Dumbledore had had enough of his potions master arguing with him in public. “I think you’ve said all you need to say on this subject Severus,” he reprimanded him sharply. “It’s unseemly for staff to be acting like this when the students can see us. Please return to your seat.”

“All of a sudden I’m not hungry tonight and I don’t like the company you keep,” Snape declared, pointedly looking at Moody, he swept out of the dining hall and returned to his office.

Hours later he was still sitting in his office having done nothing but brood all evening. Someone knocked on the door. “Enter,” he said and Filius came in carrying some sandwiches on a tray.

“Hello Severus,” said Filius genially, “I heard you had an argument with the Headmaster and missed dinner. Charity and I got back from the hospital too late for a meal so I thought you might like to share some sandwiches with me while I tell you about Azalea.”

Snape sat up straight in the armchair and invited Filius to take the other one. Filius handed the tray to Snape while he clambered into the offered chair. Snape pulled the table from beside his own chair and put it between the two chairs placing the tray of sandwiches on it where they could both reach them. “How is she?” he asked.

“Oh Severus,” said Filius forlornly, “she doesn’t look like the woman we know and love. She’s just lying there, tubes coming out of her, not moving, eyes closed and silent.”

“Tubes?” asked Snape vaguely, “why tubes?”

“She can breathe on her own but the tubes are to make sure she’s getting sustenance and water. It’s something the muggles do and the healers haven’t found a better way of keeping coma patients alive. That’s what Charity’s son told us, he’s learning to be a healer at St Mungos.” Filius explained.

“I didn’t know he worked there,” Snape said distractedly before asking the question he really needed to know the answer to, “When is she going to wake up?”

“The healers couldn’t say. Sometimes the patients wake after a few hours, or it could be days, weeks, months or even years. It’s different every time. One glimmer of hope is that the unconsciousness wasn’t caused by magic; it was because she banged her head when she landed on the ground. Apparently there’s a better chance of recovering from a coma caused by physical injury rather than magical injury.” Filius picked up a sandwich from the tray and slowly ate it. Snape took one too and bit into it, he couldn’t taste anything, all his senses were numbed by the news he had just heard. Filius finished eating his sandwich and continued to speak in a low voice which Snape strained to make out. “The healers want to know who her next of kin is, to prepare them for the worst.”

“That would be Potter,” supplied Snape. “He’s her cousin. She does have a closer cousin but they’ve been estranged for years.”

Filius hadn’t particularly been asking Snape for information about Azalea’s family. He was already aware that Harry was Azalea’s cousin but he wondered how Snape knew more about her family than he did. He didn’t ask but said “I’m off to bed now, Severus. I’ll take a couple more sandwiches to eat but you can finish the rest.”

“Good night, Filius and thank you for letting me know about Azalea’s condition.”

Filius left the room and Snape continued to sit where he was absently eating another sandwich and thinking about Azalea and reminiscing about the time they’d spent together over Christmas before he’d so stupidly thrown it all away after he’d seen the video of Lily. This train of thought led him to remember Lucy. She was practically a second mother to Azalea, she didn’t know about the accident, if any one should be Azalea’s next of kin it would be Lucy. No one except him knew about Lucy, he knew where she lived and he’d met her. He would have to be the one to tell her, he owed it to Azalea and Lucy might even be able to wake up Azalea. It was too late at night to do anything about it now but he would go and see her first thing in the morning. He went to bed with a purpose, at last he felt as if he could do something to help Azalea.

The next day, not wanting to run the risk of seeing Moody, he had breakfast in his room. He dressed in muggle style clothing. Being dressed in unfamiliar clothes helped to remove him from his usual lifestyle and he could act as if he was somebody else. He could pretend to be someone who was in love with Leah and who was about to bring bad news to her close friends. He could do this, compared to deceiving the Dark Lord it was child’s play. 

He apparated to the street where Lucy lived and walked towards her house as if he had just got off a bus. He arrived at the house and saw the car was in the drive so there was a good chance that she was in. The curtains were open and he assumed she was out of bed, although it wasn’t particularly early in the morning. He steeled himself and rang the doorbell. He heard footsteps coming down the hall and the sound of the latch being pulled back before the door opened and Lucy stood in the doorway.

She looked at him for a few seconds trying to place him. He saw recognition cross her features before he needed to introduce himself. “Severus, what a nice surprise, I haven’t seen you for ages.” Looking behind him she asked “Where’s Leah?” He said nothing, now it came to it he didn’t have the words but his silence and the look on his face spoke volumes. Lucy turned pale and gasped, “Something’s happened to Leah hasn’t it? Come in, tell me what’s wrong.” She led him to her small living room and gestured for him to sit on the sofa while she sat on a well-worn armchair that must be the one she normally used. 

Snape sat down and then carefully explained that Azalea had had an accident at school, she’d fallen from a balcony and was now in the wizard’s hospital of St Mungo’s where she was unconscious. 

“I must go and see her. Where is this hospital, I’ve never heard of it? How do I get there? I must tell her friends so they can go too.” Lucy started babbling in her anxiety over Azalea.

“No!” said Snape sharply and Lucy looked at him in shock. “No,” spoken more gently this time, “you can’t tell her friends. She’s in a wizard hospital and no one must know about the wizard world. You can go and visit her, I’ll take you, but only you. Lucy - that is the condition upon which I’ll take you.”

Lucy thought about his words, he was correct. The wizard world was secret and she’d kept that secret for years, even from her own family and Azalea. She suspected that if the secret got out due to her she’d find her memories altered and she didn’t want to forget. “All right, Severus, I won’t tell her friends yet, but if the wizard hospital can’t save her then I want her in a normal hospital so that we can all say goodbye.”

“I sincerely hope it won’t come to that, Lucy. Let’s go shall we?”

He apparated them both to the hospital and Lucy arrived with the same gut-wrenching sick feeling that most first timers experience.

This was Lucy’s first visit to the wizard world and she was struck at how like, yet also how unlike, the wizard hospital was compared to a normal hospital. It had the same antiseptic and clinical smell as a normal hospital with harassed but efficient staff moving from one place to another with a purpose, there was an enquiries desk with a long queue at it and the lady behind it giving curt answers to questions. Safety information posters adorned the walls saying things like “a clean cauldron keeps potions from becoming poisons”. The main difference was the injuries sported by the patients. No cut fingers dripping blood, no tired and fretful children with feverish faces, no drunks shouting obscenities at the overworked staff. Instead the injuries here were magic induced, strange appendages sprouting from bodies, huge bulbous boils, clothes trying to strangle their wearers and a few cases of burns. The sounds in the reception area was quite different to a normal hospital, with odd noises coming from the patients who were imitating animal noises, or a whistling kettle. The small number of affected children seemed to find their situation amusing rather than painful and a young boy was jumping around playfully on the legs of a kangaroo much to the distress of his mother.

Severus seemed to know where he was going and led her along the ground floor to a ward at the far end. As they entered the ward Lucy could see Azalea straight away in a bed opposite the door and she rushed up to the bed to look at her. Azalea appeared so small and vulnerable lying there with tubes coming out of her arm, her hair had been roughly cut to enable the healers to see the damage to her head as a result of the fall. The arm without the tubes was heavily bandaged and her body was locked into position in a frame to prevent movement. Livid bruises showed up against her pale skin on her face, arms and legs. Lucy stifled a sob and reached out to carefully hold her hand. “Oh my goodness girl, what have you done to yourself?” she said to Azalea thickly, trying to hold back the tears, although she knew she wouldn’t be heard. “Were you trying to fly without a parachute, or without wings? You’re always getting into scrapes aren’t you, remember the bees? You recovered from that so you’ll get over this won’t you my darling child?”

Snape was shocked at how Azalea looked, he didn’t hear what Lucy was saying, all he could hear was the blood pounding in his veins with rage at how Moody could have done this to her. A healer came up to them and Lucy introduced herself as Azalea’s aunt which was close enough as far as Severus was concerned and he didn’t correct her. The healer explained that Azalea would be kept in the body brace for a couple more days and her broken limbs should be repaired too in that time and the bruises would fade. The main worry was when she would regain consciousness but they’d keep her here for several weeks, if necessary, to see if there was any improvement before they moved her to the long term ward. Severus couldn’t bear the thought of Azalea never recovering. To distract him from that possibility he told Lucy he’d go and arrange a visitor pass for her to come whenever she needed to so that she wasn’t reliant on him for transport.

Lucy gave him a faint smile, “Thank you, that’s very kind of you, dear,” she said but her attention was focussed on Azalea. She was amazed that wizard medicine could heal physical injuries so quickly, mending broken bones and spinal trauma in just a few days, rather than the weeks and months it would take in a normal hospital. For the time being she was willing to leave Azalea where she was if it would speed up her recovery. 

Severus returned an hour or so later holding, of all things, a chipped tea cup. He showed it to Lucy and she regarded it in puzzlement. Seeing her confusion he explained. “It’s a portkey. It’s like a magical transporter that will take you between here and your home. It’s been tuned so that only you can use it.”

“How do I use it?” Lucy asked curiously.

“You just pick it up making sure that you touch it with your skin, so you can’t wear gloves when you’re using it. You’ll then be transported in much the same way as you were when I brought you. If you’re here it’ll take you home and if you’re at home it’ll bring you here. One word of caution, don’t accidently touch it. If you absently moved it, say when you were in your pyjamas, then you’d appear here in your pyjamas.”

“Oh that’s all right I don’t wear pyjamas to bed,” Lucy told him with a deadpan expression.

He stared at her incredulously and she relented in the face of his embarrassment and laughed at her own joke. He smiled broadly once he’d understood and Lucy got a glimpse of what Azalea saw in him.


	31. Against All Odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius is worried about Azalea. Severus has an idea.

Sirius was worried. He hadn’t heard from Azalea for four days. She had told him she wouldn’t be there for one day but he’d expected to see her the next day, when she didn’t turn up he’d assumed she’d been held up, although it was unusual for her not to let him know of changed arrangements. Now two days later and still no word – it just wasn’t like her. He hadn’t heard from Harry either. His stock of food was getting low but that was secondary to his concern about Azalea and Harry. He knew the Easter holiday must have started by now and he’d been looking forward to welcoming them both to Grimmauld Place. He couldn’t sit here and do nothing; he was going to risk a trip to Hogwarts. After some deliberation and thinking of several alternative plans he opted for the direct approach; he was simply going to knock on the door and ask to speak to her.

There wasn’t much polyjuice potion left and he didn’t want to waste it by being in disguise as he travelled. He remembered Azalea saying that he was almost unrecognisable now compared to the image on his wanted poster, so he cleaned and tidied his appearance; he bathed in a nearby stream – the water was cold coming straight out of the mountain so it was a quick bath; shaved the stubble from his face that had grown over the past few days and brushed the tangles from his matted hair. He dressed in the best of the clothes that he had with him, enchanting them to appear less ragged than they were. Satisfied that he had done all he could he set off to walk to Hogwarts, taking the precaution of using the concealment spell. He had considered apparating to the boundary of Hogwarts but decided against it in case the snap sound that heralded an apparation was detected. In any case, it was a nice day and he enjoyed getting out of the confines of the cave. 

As he walked he recalled the happy childhood days he had spent at Hogwarts and the friendships he had forged during those days. How did his life, which had promised so much, turn out the way it had? He knew the answer was Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He was determined to find a way to continue the fight against them and to help and protect Harry who was so intimately caught up in Voldemort’s master plan through no fault of his own other than the circumstances of his birth. 

He approached the castle via the Forbidden Forest because it would give him cover when he took the polyjuice potion. He was familiar with the sensation of the change and it was now no more uncomfortable than changing into his dog form. He emerged from the forest and walked quickly up to main door of the Castle. He was about to walk in through the familiar oak entrance door as he always had, when he recalled that he was supposed to be a visitor. He rang on the door bell and could hear the door chimes echo in the entrance hall. He stepped inside and waited. Before long caretaker Filch came into the entrance hall. With his usual bad attitude at having to perform the duties of his job, he said to Sirius in a surly voice, “What do you want?”

“I’d like to see Miss Bennett.” Sirius replied politely.

“Well you can’t, she ain’t here.” Filch responded and turned to leave.

Sirius was not going to accept such short shrift from Filch. “Where is she?” he demanded.

“She’s at St Mungo’s”

“Why? What’s happened?” Sirius asked with concern.

“She had an accident.” Getting information from Filch was a struggle, he hoarded it and let it out bit by bit. It amused him to see people squirm and it meant they had to talk to him for longer.

“Is she all right?” Sirius asked, frustrated by how difficult it was to get the details from Filch in one go.

“How should I know? I’m only the caretaker.” Filch said bitterly “She ain’t here so you can leave now,” he instructed Sirius and guided him towards the door.

“Wait,” Sirius said, refusing to move. “If she’s not here then I want to see Harry Potter - her cousin.” He added the last bit so Filch would be aware that he knew about the family connection and he wasn’t a stranger trying to get a look at the famous Harry Potter.

Filch glared at Sirius but he couldn’t deny Harry was there. “Who shall I say wants to see him?” he asked grudgingly.

“Tell him it’s a man about a dog,” said Sirius feeling sure Harry would understand. 

He was right. Several minutes later Harry turned up accompanied by Ron and Hermione. Harry looked at Sirius without recognition and said, “You wanted to see me about a dog?”

Sirius went up close to Harry and whispered, “It’s me, Sirius. Can we go somewhere private?”

Harry looked at him in astonishment but said aloud for the waiting Filch’s benefit, “Is the dog outside? Come on Ron, Hermione let’s go and see it.” Ron and Hermione followed Harry and the stranger outside not having a clue what was going on but trusting Harry’s judgement.

Once outside they walked in the direction of the forest where there was some tree cover before the part that was out of bounds for students. Harry wanted to be sure that the man who was claiming to be Sirius really was him and not the Ministry of Magic trying to entrap him into betraying Sirius’s whereabouts. “Where are you staying at the moment?” Harry asked him.

“At the cave of course,” responded Sirius, slightly perplexed.

“Are you on your own?” asked Harry.

“No, I’ve got Buckbeak and Snuffles,” Sirius told him belatedly realising the reason for Harry’s line of questioning.

Harry looked at Sirius in relief, “Sorry, I had to be sure it was you. Why are you taking such a risk coming to Hogwarts?”

“It’s not that much of a risk, as long as I’m careful.” They’d reached the cover of the trees by now and they stopped and stood together so all four of them could be included in the conversation. Sirius continued, “Harry, I’m worried about Azalea. Filch told me she’s in St Mungo’s, is that true?”

“How do you know Azalea?” put in Ron before Harry replied.

“We met a few weeks ago, she’s been a regular visitor. She was supposed to come a couple of days ago and she’s always kept her promise or let me know if she couldn’t make it,” he explained.

“I suppose she helped you to get the polyjuice to change your appearance,” speculated Hermione.

“Yes.” Sirius replied succinctly. “Answer me, what’s happened to her?”

Harry took pity on him and supplied the information, “I didn’t know you knew her otherwise I would have told you sooner. She’s had an accident. She fell from a second floor balcony. She’s still unconscious and no one knows how long it might be before she wakes up.” 

“I must go and see her,” said Sirius at once.

“No!” all three of his companions chorused at the same time.

“It’s too risky.” Harry said. “St Mungo’s is crawling with Ministry of Magic agents, they check on all injuries to detect the use of the Dark Arts. Someone is bound to recognise you, even if you are using polyjuice. They routinely screen visitors for enchantments and smuggling in illegal artefacts.”

Sirius reluctantly accepted the logic of Harry’s reasoning. “But I need to know how she is. Have you visited her yet?” All three of them admitted that they hadn’t yet managed to get there because the last few days of term had been hectic. Added to that they had no form of transport.

“Ask Dumbledore to sort something out. Azalea is your cousin after all Harry,” suggested Sirius.

“I know that Professor Burbage and Professor Flitwick have been to see her because it was Professor Burbage who told me how Azalea was doing. Maybe we could go with them next time they go,” suggested Hermione.

“Yes” said Sirius, seizing on the slightest idea, “Ask them to take you then come straight back and tell me how she is.”

“O.K. we’ll do that,” Harry assured him. “While you’re here, how are you for food?”

“Running low, to be honest” said Sirius.

“Wait here for a bit and I’ll go and scrounge some from the house elves,” said Harry.

The mention of the house elves reminded Sirius of something and he asked, “Has anyone told Winky how Azalea is?”

“No,” said Harry “why would we?”

“She’s Azalea’s house elf, she’ll be worried, it would be a kindness to tell her,” said Sirius.

“Winky’s a free elf,” said Hermione in a heated tone, “she is not Azalea’s house elf.”

“I know that, Hermione, but Azalea told me that Winky had sort of adopted her as her mistress. Azalea’s very fond of Winky and would want her to be kept informed.”

“You seem to know a lot about what Azalea would and wouldn’t want,” observed Harry.

“Like I said, she’s been a frequent visitor to the cave and I’ve got to know her well.”

Harry sighed, “All right, I’ll tell Winky when I get the food.” He noticed Sirius give him a sharp look and he added, “And I’ll tell her how Azalea is doing every time we visit her.”

\--oOo--

Meanwhile, Snape was in his quarters feeling relieved that the holidays had started. Unfortunately, due to the presence of the Triwizard visitors from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, most of the Hogwarts students had opted to stay at school for the Easter holidays and the place was busier and louder than ever without the routine of lessons and homework to keep the students in check. 

He’d been to visit Azalea every day since he’d taken Lucy to the hospital. He would sit by the bed holding her hand and willing her to get better. On the second visit she turned her head towards him and said a single word with such clarity that there was no mistaking the word. “Edward.” Said with longing and anguish. He felt a chill run through his body. 

One of the healers overheard and came up to him and remarked, “She’s called for Edward a few times, I’m so glad that you’ve finally got here, maybe she’ll get better quicker now.” Snape gave the healer one of his blank eyed stares and the healer moved away quickly, regretting her words; you could never tell how a grieving friend or relative would react. Snape returned his attention to Azalea, he pushed the thought of who Edward might be to the back of his mind and concentrated on how he could help her. Now sitting in his office he longed for some peace and quiet so he could reflect on how to assist. He could go back to his house in Spinners End. There he would get the quiet he desired but he wasn’t certain he could ever find peace again. The decision made he informed Dumbledore of his plans and left that night.

Sitting in his house with a fire burning in the grate and a glass of wine in his hand Snape indulged himself with all his fond memories of Azalea. He remembered her laughter, her soft hair, her smell, he remembered the smudge on her face when she cleaning the armour, dancing with her at the Yule Ball, he remembered the night they had watched the Aurora Borealis, the time at the karaoke bar, the day at the swimming pool, the evenings preparing meals together, the single night sharing her bed. Then he compared that to how she was now; practically lifeless, still, vulnerable and lost. The juxtaposition of those thoughts triggered a memory from the karaoke night, she’d said to him, “If I’m ever lost all you have to do is sing to me and I’ll come and find you.” He sat up instantly alert, could it be that simple? Lucy had told him that in muggle hospitals, friends and relatives were encouraged to talk to coma patients, to read to them from their favourite books, play them movies they liked and to let them listen to music and songs they enjoyed. All he’d done so far when he visited Azalea was sit in silence. How would she even know it was him?

Inspired by the thought he went over to the sideboard where he kept the radio and CDs of music he liked to listen to. He wasn’t sure of exact Azalea’s taste in music but from the discussions they’d had he worked out that she preferred popular music to the classics. He scanned through his collection of CDs, some of which he hadn’t listened to for years. Then one title caught his eye and he put it on and listened to it. That would be perfect for the first song. He sang along with it until he had learned the words well enough. He knew he would feel uncomfortable singing in a public place and he wanted the security of the backing music to help him sing the song correctly and hide his nerves. He couldn’t take his CD player into the hospital because the hospital security checked visitors to make sure they didn’t bring any illegal artefacts into the hospital. However, there was no restriction against magic. All he needed to do what to find a way to copy the backing music from the CD into an enchantment that would play in the background, like a muggle karaoke machine but without the microphone. 

He spent hours trying to work out how to do it, he looked through every magic book he owned, including a couple on the dark arts that he had hidden under the floorboards. It didn’t help that the majority of his books were about potions and he knew a potion couldn’t help with this problem. He was on the verge of giving up when he recalled the way Dumbledore liked to extract memories from his head and then look at them in a pensieve. Maybe he could adapt that idea for the music. He put a CD on to play and experimented until he had found a way to extract a copy of the music from the CD. The next problem was how to capture it for replay. That turned out not to be too difficult, he simply stored it in his wand. He practised pushing the backing track for the song from his wand, where the sound hovered in the air and he could sing along to it. He went to bed happy in the knowledge that he might now be able to help Azalea to recover. 

The next day he practised the song again and was satisfied that his enchanted backing track would work. As he was getting dressed he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like a teacher, he didn’t want Azalea’s first sight of him when she awoke to remind her of how he had acted towards her recently; he wanted her to know from the first that he had no longer thought that way. He had a shower and washed his hair with muggle shampoo so that it was sleek and shiny. Once it had dried he pulled it back into a ponytail the way she had styled it at Christmas. He changed his clothes so he was in muggle clothes and not his Hogwarts robes. When he looked in the mirror he almost didn’t recognise himself. He apparated to the hospital and went to Azalea’s ward. She had no other visitors, he pulled the screening curtains around her bed to give him the illusion of privacy and to imagine only she could hear him. Before he started he spoke to her, “Azalea, do you remember at Christmas we went somewhere very special? I found this song which I’m going to sing to you, I hope you like it.” He pushed the tune from his wand and began to singing in the voice she loved to hear:-

“The northern lights are in my mind  
They guide me back to you  
The northern lights are in my mind  
They guide me back to you

Destination outward bound  
I turn to see the northern lights behind the wing  
Horizons seem to beckon me  
Learned how to cry too young, so now I live to sing

The northern lights are in my mind  
They guide me back to you  
Horizons seem to beckon me  
Learned how to cry too young, so now I live to sing

Know it's hard away from you  
Travelling roads and passing through  
It's not for money and it's not for fame  
I just can't explain, sometimes it's lonely

Marking the space between the days  
Early hours pass away  
I sing to you of northern lights  
I sing for you of northern nights

Past or future, here or there  
Shelter comes in words from you, so talk to me  
I hear your voice, it comforts me  
In morning dreams I take your hand, you walk with me

The northern lights are in my mind  
They guide me back to you  
Peace enfolds the still night air  
Home again I look for you and find you there

Destination homeward now  
Take the easy way, bring me down  
Making the hard way now I see  
Hard to be really free, I'm missing you near me

Marking the space between the days  
Early hours pass away  
I sing to you of northern lights  
I sing for you of northern nights

The northern lights are in my mind  
They guide me back to you  
The northern nights are in my eyes  
They guide me back to you”

He finished the song and looked at her to see if there was any change. He could see none and disappointment flooded through him. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, perhaps for her to wake up and leap off the bed into his arms. He berated himself for his over optimism, of course it was unrealistic to expect instant results, recovery took time and he would have to persevere. He spoke to her again, “I hope you liked that Azalea because I’m coming tomorrow and every day thereafter to sing to you until you wake up. That’s the only way you won’t have to listen to me anymore.”

True to his word he came back every day and sang to her. He practiced the songs at his home in Spinners End so he could sing them properly to her, he wanted his singing to be perfect and it was. He sang sad songs, sometimes upbeat songs, funny songs, traditional songs, emotional songs, songs from the wizard world or songs from the muggle world. As the days went by he began to believe that she was improving. She lost her pallor and her skin regained some of its sheen, her head would turn slightly in the direction of his voice and when he held her hand he was sure her fingers curled more around his each day.

The day before the beginning of term he arrived at St Mungo’s later than usual because he’d had to get things organised for the return to work, something he was not looking forward to. It would be far more difficult to visit Azalea around his lessons but he was determined to do it. He went to her bed and pulled the curtains across as usual. He had got into the habit of speaking to her before he sang, using endearments he knew she couldn’t hear, and he said, “Well my love, I’ve got a special song for you today because term starts tomorrow and I might not be able to make it at regular times but I’m still coming even if it’s at midnight. They can try to turn me away but they won’t succeed.” He leant in close and whispered so only she could hear him, “The words to this song are exactly how I feel about you so listen carefully.” And he sang the song for her.

“How can I just let you walk away, just let you leave without a trace  
When I stand here taking every breath with you, ooh  
You're the only one who really knew me at all

How can you just walk away from me,  
when all I can do is watch you leave  
Cos we've shared the laughter and the pain and even shared the tears  
You're the only one who really knew me at all

So take a look at me now, oh there's just an empty space  
And there's nothing left here to remind me,  
just the memory of your face  
Ooh take a look at me now, well there's just an empty space  
And you coming back to me is against all odds and that's what I've got to face

I wish I could just make you turn around,  
turn around and see me cry  
There's so much I need to say to you,  
so many reasons why  
You're the only one who really knew me at all

So take a look at me now, well there's just an empty space  
And there's nothing left here to remind me, just the memory of your face  
Now take a look at me now, cos there's just an empty space

But to wait for you, is all I can do and that's what I've got to face  
Take a good look at me now, cos I'll still be standing here  
And you coming back to me is against all odds  
It's the chance I've gotta take

Take a look at me now”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've now had over 1000 hits! Thanks to everyone who is keeping up with the story - there are are still several more weeks' worth to go!


	32. The Odds are in our Favour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy visits Azalea and is surprised to see a visitor already there.

It had been over two weeks since Azalea’s accident and Lucy was now a frequent visitor at St Mungo’s hospital. When she arrived that day, earlier than she normally did, she greeted the reception staff as usual and made her way along the now familiar route to the ward where Azalea was staying. She was convinced that Azalea was improving, every day she was sure there were subtle little signs of recovery that weren’t there the previous day. The healers cautioned her not to be too hopeful and see things that weren’t really there, but Lucy thought that only people who knew Azalea well would be see the changes. Things like a slight change in her colour, the pallor seemed to be fading, how her eyes seemed to move more when she was dreaming, she would slightly shift her head when Lucy spoke to her as if she was trying to hear more clearly, when Lucy held Leah’s hand she was certain that Azalea was returning the pressure more each day. Lucy loved Azalea as if she were own daughter and as much as she loved her own sons. Even if Leah’s mother, Ivy, had not begged her when she knew she was dying to look out for Leah as a mother would, Lucy would have done it anyway. 

As she approached the door to the ward she saw a small gathering of people clustered around the door. A young healer joined the group and whispered to one of the others, “Is it Edward?”

“Yes” came the whispered reply, “he’s later today than he usually is. Shh.”

“Edward?” thought Lucy as she curiously made her way to the front. Lucy was recognised by the assembled people and they opened a path for her to the door, which had been propped open slightly ajar. From this angle Azalea’s bed could be seen but the curtains had been pulled around it screening it from view. Leah had a visitor and Lucy could hear a man’s voice singing a song which she recognised as a Phil Collins’ song, “Against All Odds” but it was not a recording of Phil Collins singing. She stood just inside the room and listened transfixed with the rest of the crowd outside the door. The song was delivered in a voice full of emotion and longing doing perfect justice to the meaning of the lyrics. The singer drew to a close and as the final note faded there was complete silence from the listeners at the door and Lucy saw that more than one of them had tears glistening in their eyes.

Slowly the people listening moved away and went back to their work. Lucy heard the young healer who had arrived late comment, “He must really love her to come every day and sing like that. I hope she recovers and they can live happily ever after.” 

Lucy walked over to Azalea’s bed and opened the curtains to see the identity of the singer. Sitting on the chair by her bed was a man with long shining black hair tied back into a ponytail, he was wearing jeans and T shirt in the muggle fashion, rather than the wizard robes more commonly seen at the hospital. For a second she didn’t recognise him. ”Severus!” she said in surprise. He was holding Leah’s hand and gently brushing the hair from her forehead. The expression on his face was one of tenderness and worry but tinged with hope. He stopped smoothing her hair but kept a hold of her hand.

“Was that you singing?” Lucy asked but knowing it certainly was she continued, “It was beautiful. Leah told me that you had a wonderful voice and she was right.” Severus said nothing and Lucy noticed his face had cleared of the emotions she had observed earlier and he had resumed his more familiar neutral expression. Lucy asked another question which had been puzzling her, “Why do the staff think you’re called Edward?”

Severus spoke the first words he had to her since she’d arrived. “Leah had called for Edward a couple of times and the staff assumed she meant me. I didn’t tell them otherwise.” He paused as if at war with himself over his next question but finally asked her “Who is Edward?”

Lucy sighed and told him. “Edward was Leah’s fiancé. He died about four years’ ago.” Lucy decided to let him know more detail about Edward, she knew it was a hard subject for Leah to talk about and given Severus’s obvious concern about Leah she thought he deserved to know. “They were very much in love. He was killed by a street mugger while out on errand for Azalea. Leah was heartbroken, she blamed herself for sending him to his death and it’s taken years for her to get over it, although she probably never will.” Lucy looked at Severus straight in the eyes and said to him, “You were the first man she’d shown an interest in since then and I was delighted to see some of her lively spark come back when she was with you.” 

Snape averted his eyes from her appraising gaze and asked, “Edward. What was he like?”

“He was an intelligent man, a good man, honest, considerate and thoughtful. He wasn’t particularly handsome, just average but then Leah’s never been influenced by appearance, she can look beyond that and see the person underneath.” Snape shifted uncomfortably at this comment. Lucy took his discomfiture as an opportunity to ask him something that had perplexed her for weeks. “Why did you and Leah fall out? She was so happy over Christmas and then it all went sour. She told me it hadn’t worked out between you but never why?”

“Lily,” was his simple answer.

“Lily?” she repeated, “Lily Evans? Leah’s cousin?”

Snape nodded mutely and he could on see her face that her mind was working out the connections. “You were at school with Lily,” she concluded, “You’re about the same age I suppose. You were in love with her and somehow you feel you contributed to her death.” Snape neither confirmed nor denied her assumptions. She placed her hand on his arm and said gently, “Everybody loved Lily but she wasn’t perfect.” Lucy smiled in remembrance and said, “She was certainly a person who could hold a grudge. I think only Petunia was worse. Forgiveness was not a strong point with the Evans girls. The pair of them would torment poor Leah for days when they were children. Ivy, Leah’s mother, thought it must come from their father’s side of the family because Ivy and her sister Rose, Lily’s mother, weren’t like that. Leah isn’t either she’s always willing to forgive and forget.” Lucy recalled Severus’s anguished expression she’d seen when she arrived by Azalea’s bed and decided to give him some advice. After all, what was the point of becoming older if you couldn’t pass on the benefit of your life’s experiences? “Severus, I’d urge you to bury your differences with Leah when she wakes up. Life’s too short to waste with regrets and self-blame. It’s better to regret the things you did do than the things you didn’t do.”

Snape finally let go of Azalea’s hand and stood up, he choked on his next words, “What if she doesn’t wake up? How will I say I’m sorry then?” He gave Lucy a despairing look and rushed from the room before she could frame a reply. 

Lucy sat in the seat that Severus had vacated and held Leah’s hand. “Men,” she said to Azalea conversationally, “how can we ever understand them?” She stared at Leah lying on the bed her chest moving slowly in and out as she breathed. A bee had got into the ward and was buzzing just above Leah’s head. Lucy left it alone, Leah seemed to have some affinity with bees and, who knew, its buzzing might reach her. Lucy carried on her one sided conversation, “That man is in love with you, however much he tries to deny it.” She leaned forward and whispered in Leah’s ear in a conspiratorial way “A woman knows these things.”

“Knows what things?” she heard someone murmur and lifting her head she saw that Leah’s green eyes were open and regarding her in confusion. “I thought I heard Severus singing. Where am I? Lucy what’s happened?”

“Leah!” Lucy cried in relief and hugged her forcefully. “You’re awake! Don’t you remember? You fell from the balcony, you’ve been unconscious for more than two weeks. You’re at St Mungo’s Hospital. Oh my sweet girl, I’m so relieved to hear your voice, let me get a healer to check you out.”

\--oOo--

The next day was the beginning of term. Snape hadn’t yet been able to slip out to visit Azalea at the hospital and to add to his frustration his lessons today included Potter. He noticed straight away that the boy was not in class. “Where is Potter?” he demanded icily, “Late as usual I suppose?”

Weasley spoke up, “Professor, he’s gone to St Mungo’s to visit his cousin, she’s woken up.”

Relief swept through Snape like rain after a drought but he kept his voice stern, “Nonetheless he still needs my permission to miss a lesson and he doesn’t have it.” 

Snape was about to tell Ron to let Potter know he would have a detention to catch up when the door of the classroom opened and in walked Dumbledore who announced “Ah, Professor Snape I was just coming to let you know that Harry has my permission to miss your lesson today to visit his cousin who has now woken up after her accident.” Dumbledore watched Snape closely to gauge his reaction to the news about Azalea, not realising that he had found out seconds earlier. 

Snape was fully in control now and replied evenly, “I am pleased to hear that Miss Bennett is recovering but Potter will still need to catch up on his missed lesson.”

Dumbledore was unable to read Snape’s unfathomable expression and replied, “Quite so, quite so Professor. I’m sure Miss Granger will be happy to share her notes with him, won’t you Miss Granger?”

“Of course, headmaster” replied Hermione who was glad for Harry’s sake that he wouldn’t have to spend time alone with Snape.

“Well that’s settled then,” said Dumbledore with finality and left the classroom.

By the end of the day Snape was desperate to go and see Azalea. Charity and Filius had been visiting her during dinner and Filius had popped in afterwards to see Snape and let him know how she was doing. Snape was grateful for Filius’s consideration but it was no substitute for actually going himself. He knew it was late to be visiting but he threw caution to the wind and apparated to St Mungo’s after first going outside the boundaries of Hogwarts.

There were no set visiting hours at St Mungos and Snape had been a regular visitor to Azalea (even if the staff thought he was called Edward) so no one was particularly surprised when he arrived late. One healer commented that they’d expected to see him much sooner, given that Azalea had been conscious for over a day by then. Snape gave no reply and hurried to the ward. 

He paused at the door to the ward and looked over towards her bed. She wasn’t in it but was sitting in the chair next to it engrossed in one of her proof reading documents. He looked at her as if he couldn’t see enough of her. She still looked pale and her hair was untidily cut where the healers had hacked it about to get to the injury on her head but she had never looked more beautiful to him. He crossed the room silently but as he approached she became aware of someone else in the room and looked up from her reading. Her eyes opened wide when she saw him and he ran the last few steps to her. On passing the screening curtains he swept his hand in a gesture to close them to give then some privacy. Azalea had put down her book on the bed and was attempting to stand up from the chair when he reached her. He put his hand out to help her stand but then put both his arms around her and held her in a longed for embrace. He felt her arms snake around his body and tighten to hold him close. They stood like that for several precious minutes until by mutual unspoken consent they relaxed their grip and moved apart to look at each other. Hypnotised by the expression they could see reflected in the other’s eyes they moved slowly towards the other until their lips met and they kissed away the past as if they had never happened and both felt the reset of their relationship. As they drew apart Azalea gazed into Severus’s dark eyes and said, “If I’d known you’d react like that I’d have fallen off the balcony weeks ago!”

He hugged her in close and chided her, “Leah, that’s not funny. You could have died.”

“I didn’t though, did I?” She remained in his embrace and spoke against his chest. “I was lost in my own mind and couldn’t find the way out. Then I heard something calling me back, the beautiful voice like that of an angel, it was like a silver thread that I should follow. Every time I heard it the thread got stronger and the way got clearer. I wanted to come back to you and finally I made it. I would still be there if not for you.”

“No one’s ever called me an angel before,” he muttered against her soft hair.

“I didn’t say you were an angel, I said your voice was like an angel. There is a difference you know,” she said with mock severity and he knew she was back from whatever place she’d been. He felt her wilt against him and realised that her muscles must still be weak from her extended stay in bed, so he swept her up into his arms and sat on the chair with her sitting on his lap. She settled into position and rested her head on his shoulder.

He could have stayed like that all night but knew he would have to return to Hogwarts before too long so he broached the subject of the accident. “Leah, can you remember what happened? How you fell off the balcony?”

She stiffened slightly and lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him, “I can remember exactly what happened, but I’m not sure anyone will be believe me.”

“I’ll believe you, Leah, you know I’ll always believe you. What happened?” he asked her.

She related the events to him. “There was an altercation between some Slytherin and Ravenclaw students on the second floor corridor but I sorted that out and sent them on their way. I thought the corridor was empty but I noticed Professor Moody in the shadows. I had a question about the homework he’d set so I decided to take the opportunity to ask him about it. I called out his name and it was only then that he became aware he wasn’t on his own anymore.” She paused and went off subject. “You know I can see magic?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he replied noting she was expecting a response from him and it wasn’t just a rhetorical question.

“Well, I’ve always seen the glow of magic around Moody, right from the first time I saw him. I assumed it because he had that artificial eye, but up there on the corridor I realised that it wasn’t that at all. I’d had my suspicions for a while as to the cause. He had his hip flask in his hand and he was about to take a drink from it, when it hit me that the glow I could see around was the glow of someone who’s taking polyjuice potion. I could see that the potion was wearing off and he was starting to change, his hair was turning a lighter colour and he seemed to be getting taller. I went up to him and asked, “Who are you?” Before I had a chance to react he whipped out his wand from beneath his cloak and I was sent flying over the balcony. I just about managed to utter a cushioning spell before I reached the ground but it must have been incomplete so I landed with a crash and woke up here.” 

Severus tightened his hold on her and kissed her hair, aware at how close he had come to losing her. Now he needed to protect her. “What should I do, Severus?” she asked him. “If I let it be known that Moody’s a fake and tried to kill me and no one believes me or I can’t prove it, then I could be watching my back for the rest of my life. It should be easy to prove, shouldn’t it? Just keep Moody from drinking from his hip flask for a while until the effects of the potion wear off.” 

“It might not be as easy as you think to prove he’s an imposter,” Severus explained. “Polyjuice only works if the person you are impersonating is still alive. So we must assume the real Moody is still alive. All the imposter would need to do is wheel out the real Moody for a while, put an Imperius Curse on him to force him to co-operate until it had been proven that he wasn’t taking polyjuice and then the fake Moody takes over again.”

“Nothing’s ever easy is it,” Azalea complained, “Should I tell Dumbledore, or just pretend I can’t remember anything?”

Severus wasn’t convinced that telling Dumbledore would help, given that he’d memory wiped Pritchard for the same thing but on the other hand the headmaster might believe Azalea. However, Severus did not want her to see the headmaster unprotected against a memory charm, so he said, “I think you should tell the Headmaster but before you do I’m going to teach you a set of skills called legilimency and occlumency.”

“What are those?” she asked him.

“Legilimency is the ability to extract memories and thoughts from someone’s mind. Occlumency is the ability to defend the mind against such external penetration.”

“Why do I need to be able to do that just to see Dumbledore?” she questioned.

“I can’t answer that without betraying someone else’s trust but Azalea please co-operate with me on this. Occlumency is a good skill to have and, if you can do it, it will protect you.”

Azalea could hear the concern in his voice and agreed to give it a go. “All right, we’ll start when I get back shall we? I think they’re discharging me in a few days.”

“Good. I can’t wait for you to come back home. In the meantime, if anyone asks about the accident say you can’t remember.”


	33. Occlumency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea and Severus discover they have met before.

Azalea remained in hospital for a few more days to make sure that she was fully recovered from her injuries. Her natural sociability meant she was popular with the staff and patients and to her surprise she was fascinated by the art of healing. A medical profession had never appealed to her before, probably because it necessitated an interest in and an aptitude for science which she did not have in the muggle world. However, in the wizard world the healer’s skills were based on empathy and magical ability, both of which she possessed in abundance. She also discovered another of her skills was of particular use in a healer’s repertoire.

The healers at St Mungo’s were always looking out for people who might be interested in the profession and were more than happy to let Azalea shadow them whilst working. Azalea was following around a senior healer on his rounds. He was on the Fourth Floor in the ward for spell damage and was talking to a patient who wasn’t recovering as well as expected. The man’s accident had been caused by a broken wand misfiring and he’d been hit by the Vitus jinx, a spell which makes objects agitate. Its main purpose was for use in mixing substances during manufacturing processes but if a living creature was hit by it they would shake uncontrollably until the jinx was lifted. The patient on the ward today had been treated several weeks ago but the jinx had continued to occasionally affect him with no warning and his legs would shake causing him to fall over. The senior healer took his wand and positioned it over the man’s right leg and muttered an incantation. Azalea was watching him and asked what he was doing. He explained that there must be a remnant of the jinx left in the patient and he was trying to remove it.

“Oh I see, I thought that’s what you were doing,” Azalea said, “but the jinx remnant isn’t there it’s here,” and she pointed to a spot a few inches below the area the healer was treating.

The healer looked at her in surprise, unlike many muggle senior medics he wasn’t possessed by an arrogance that he knew best, and moving his wand to the point she had indicated he repeated the healing spell. The patient noticed the difference immediately and his face lit up, “I think that’s got it,” he declared.

“How did you know where it was?” the healer asked with professional curiosity.

“I could see the colour where the jinx was located,” she explained, “I’ve got an ability to see the colour of magic and it was obvious to me where the problem was.”

“Magical synaesthesia; that is an extremely rare gift. The advantages it would give you if you pursued a career in healing are manifold. You must give serious consideration to becoming a healer,” he urged her.

Azalea smiled at him, “I’m a latecomer to magic and I’m still learning the basics. Do you think I’d be able to help out at the hospital over the school summer holidays so I can see if it is the career path for me?”

“Absolutely,” he confirmed, “I shall make the arrangements myself. Now, while I’ve got you perhaps you could assist with the next patient, who’s also showing a reluctance to heal.”

By the end of the week Azalea was discharged from hospital and returned to Hogwarts in good spirits. She’d made up with Severus and hopefully their relationship would go from strength to strength, she had a job arranged for the summer at the hospital and they were going to pay her. The pay was better than the money she earned with the proof reading and she intended to give that up over the summer and concentrate on catching up with her magical studies. 

Returning to her chambers at Hogwarts felt like coming home. Sophia was delighted to see her and relayed news of the things Azalea had missed while she was away, it was mostly gossip from the other portraits but Azalea showed an interest and asked relevant questions. Once inside her chambers she could see that Winky had kept it in spotless condition so it was always ready for her return. Azalea greeted Winky with gusto and effusive thanks and said she hoped that Harry had kept her informed of how she had been doing at the hospital. Winky said Master Harry had spoken to her but often there wasn’t much to tell. “I wish I could have visited you at the hospital, my lady, but house elves aren’t supposed to go there unless on their master’s business.”

The next person Azalea went to see was Sirius. Harry had told her how concerned he’d been and Azalea wanted to make sure he was looking after himself properly. She needn’t have worried, Sirius was looking as well as ever. Winky had been keeping him supplied with food and had even made some clothes for him. “I love your house elf, Azalea” he said “you’ve got a real treasure there. Don’t ever let her go.”

“She’s not really my house elf and she can leave me any time she wants,” Azalea responded.

“Anyone would be a fool to leave you Azalea,” Sirius said softly and moved closer to her. “I was going out of mind with worry when I thought you might never wake up. I’m so glad to have you back. It’s a pity you didn’t get to stay at Grimmauld Place over the Easter holidays.

“Ooh, that reminds me,” Azalea said taking a step away from him, “I’ve got a job at St Mungo’s over the summer, do you think I could stay at Gimmauld Place? I could almost walk to work from there.”

“My house is your house. Of course you can stay. Can you bring Winky too? She’s a better cook than Kreacher,” he replied but kept his distance.

“She can come if she wants to. You should learn to cook for yourself, Sirius and not be a spoilt rich boy with house elves to do that for you,” she said jokingly.

Sirius gave a half-hearted smile, his rich boy lifestyle had been spoiled years ago but he’d be a poor boy in an instant if it would wipe away the way his life had turned out.

\--oOo--  
Azalea stood outside Snapes’s office then knocked sharply on the door.

“Come in,” came a peremptory command.

She opened the door and entered. It was the first time they’d been alone together since she had returned from the hospital. Now they were back in their normal surroundings she wasn’t sure how to act, should she fly into his arms like she wanted to or be more reserved? She opted for the latter.

He was standing by the cabinet, the one that contained the strange shapes floating in fluids. She went to stand by him, closer than she would normally stand next to someone but not so close as to intimidate him if he no longer wanted to be with her. She said “Hello, I wondered if you were still going to teach me legilimency and occlumency? I’ve been reading up on them so I don’t come in a state of complete ignorance.”

“Complete ignorance?” he said remaining where he was, “I am a teacher so I’m used to dealing with complete ignorance, then it moves to partial understanding and, more rarely, on to perfect knowledge.” He was acutely aware of her standing close to him, her scent filled his senses; she smelt of honey and vanilla, one of her muggle soaps no doubt. It reminded him of long forgotten memories of sultry summer days with Lily down by the river, the drone of bees in the air. He wanted to embrace Azalea but now they were back at Hogwarts in their roles of teacher and student he wasn’t sure what to do. 

“Let’s see how far down the path the perfect knowledge I can get, shall we?” Azalea said. She paused, considering her next words, “Severus, I’m glad that we’re on friendly terms again, I’ve missed you more than I can say.” His heart skipped a beat at her admission. She continued, “But I’d like to take things slowly for now, I’m not ready to rush in to something that’s too intense and too intimate. Do you think we could go on a few dates away from Hogwarts and get to know each other? Like we were starting to at Christmas.”

“Of course, that’s an excellent idea,” he confirmed and was rewarded by the sight of her brilliant smile. “Now, onto legilmency and occlumency.”

As he had anticipated Azalea was an able student and quickly picked up the basics of the techniques. After a few days she told him that she was going to tell Dumbledore the truth about how she fell from the balcony. “As you know, I don’t go to Moody’s lessons anymore and I avoid him at meal times,” she said, “I’d like the Headmaster to get rid of him and the only way he may do that is if I tell him what really happened.”

“All right then but let’s have another go at occlumency. The headmaster is a powerful wizard and if he wants to alter your memory you will have to be strong to resist him. This time I’m going to try and force my way in to your mind and you must fight me off as hard as you can,” he instructed her, “I’m good at this and it will demonstrate what you may encounter with the headmaster." He suddenly lifted his wand and said "Legilimens.” 

Azalea was unprepared when he struck and images and memories raced to the front of her mind, childhood memories of playing with Lily and Petunia, laughing with her school friends as teenagers, graduating from university, walking hand in hand with Edward; her memories of Edward came flashing by in abundance, she didn’t want anyone to see her most precious and intimate moments with him and she forced her mind closed, she shut the images off with a snap like slamming a door in his face. She was angry that Snape may have seen her memories and she shouted the spell back at him “Legilimens!”

He was astounded that she easily broke into his mind; his memories flashed before him, a skinny chid being beaten by a drunken father, a ragged boy enduring jibes and insults at a muggle primary school, Lily and him down by the river, a swarm of bees.

Azalea shared his memories as surely as if they had been her own. The sight of the bees triggered a long forgotten incident from her own childhood and she instantly broke the mental link and stared at him aghast, “The bees - it was you!” 

He echoed, “It was you!”

• The memory then came flooding back to Azalea. All this time she had suppressed the truth, guided by what others had told her had happened.  
The memory came flooding back to Snape. Over the years he had tried to forget it had ever happened.

• She was 8 years old. She and her mother were visiting her aunty and cousins.

He was 11 years old. Lily’s family had visitors.

• Lily had promised to play with her after lunch but had gone out and left her behind. Lily must have forgotten. She’d go and look for Lily.

He had met Lily by their tree after she had finished her lunch. He rarely had lunch but was used to feeling hungry.

• She searched for Lily shouting, “Liiiily, Liiily, where are you? I’m lonely. I want you to play with me.”

He could hear the annoying brat calling for Lily in a whiny voice. He wanted Lily all to himself that afternoon. He had hardly seen her all week since her visitors had arrived.

• She wandered down the lane, kicking the grass and flowers. The day was hot.

He led Lily away from their tree towards the river where the sound of the water would hide the brat’s shouting which Lily did not seem to have noticed yet. The day was warm, the sun was shining and Lily was with him.

• She was getting tired, the lane was long; her feet hurt. Now she was thirsty.

He reached the river before Lily and saw a patch of yellow cowslips still in bloom, unusual for the time of year, clusters of bell shaped flowers on a single stem and a sweet fragrance rising from them. He picked some to give to Lily, presenting them to her with a flourish. Lily took the flowers and gave a smile that was just for him. She waved her wand and transformed the flowers into bright yellow butterflies which rose into the air, fluttered around her head rising and falling on the warm air. He smiled at the sight. These were the times he treasured, just him and Lily. 

• She saw the river shining in the sunlight. There was Lily. She started to run. There was that boy. He looked scruffy. He was wearing a girl’s shirt. He looked silly. She shouted, “Lily!”

He heard the girl call and saw her running towards them. She was wearing matching pink shorts and T-shirt, her skinny arms and legs poked out of them like sharp sticks. Lily turned at the sound of her name and noticed the girl. The butterflies were now circling Lily’s head like a halo; she had created something beautiful for herself from his gift.

• Lily had butterflies flying round her head. “Make some for me Lily, make some for me!” she called. The scruffy boy looked cross.

How dare the girl spoil his time with Lily! He would make her something all right.

• Lily waved to her not looking at the boy. The boy looked really cross now and waved a stick he had in his hand. The butterflies disappeared and turned into big yellow bees. 

He stared at the girl with a grim but satisfied look. Now go away, he thought, the butterflies were not meant for you and you are not having them. 

• The boy had a little grin on his face. The bees started to chase her. She ran. The bees were faster. They were all over her. She tried to swat them away. There were too many. One stung her, another stung her; lots stung her. It hurt, it hurt. She screamed. Lily screamed.

He heard Lily scream, “Help her! Help her!” The girl was covered in bees, like a moving yellow cloak they swarmed over her small body stinging any patch of bare skin they could find. He felt alarmed now, this wasn’t meant to happen, he had only wanted to scare her away; the bees weren’t real. Lily was trying to brush the bees away but getting stung herself. He must save Lily. He ran to the girl and picked her up ignoring the pain as the bees found the gaps through his ill-fitting clothes and landed their barbs where they could. He jumped into the river with the girl still struggling in his arms.

• The boy grabbed her and jumped into the river. She went under the water, she couldn’t breathe. She was pulled up. The water wasn’t deep. The bees had washed off. She hurt all over. “Mummy, Mummy, I want my Mummy.”

He looked at the girl standing up to her waist in the water and crying for her mother. Lily ran to comfort her and took her away without a second glance at him. The bees had gone and all that was left were yellow petals floating on the water like the innocent blossom they were. He had an uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had done something terribly wrong.

Azalea stared at Snape across the room and whispered, “You probably saved my life.”

Snape stared at Azalea across the room and whispered, “I could have killed you.”

They stepped closer to one another, Snape stretched out his arms and Azalea went willingly into his embrace. He hugged her close and buried his face in her hair. She gently took his face between her hands and looked into his eyes which were damp with unshed tears. “Lily never mentioned you were there,” she assured him, “in her version the bees came from nowhere and I stumbled into the river. She covered up for you.”

“This isn’t about Lily, it’s about you,” he said regaining his composure, “that’s twice I’ve been responsible for you nearly dying.”

“When was the second time?” she asked.

“When Moody threw you over the balcony.”

“How was that your fault, you weren’t even there?”

“If I’d had more control over the Slytherins they wouldn’t have been fighting and you wouldn’t have had to break up the fight.”

Azalea gave a short sound of exclamation and moved his forehead to touch hers, “That’s a bit of a tenuous reason, Severus. You can’t be responsible for everything that goes wrong and you shouldn’t blame yourself for choices that other people make. However,” she added in a teasing voice, “you can blame yourself for what I’m about to do.” She pulled his face closer to her and kissed him which he returned relishing the feeling of her soft lips against his. 

When they broke apart he whispered, “Why am I to blame for that?”

“Because I find you so damn attractive that’s why.”

“Likewise,” he murmured as they kissed again.


	34. That Which We Require

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea tells Dumbledore of her suspicions about Moody. Her relationship with Severus relationship strengthens.

Azalea sat in Dumbledore’s office getting ready to tell him about Moody’s involvement with her accident.

She had practised occlumency some more with Severus but she had been unsure whether or not it would work against someone attempting to alter her memories. All the background reading she had done about occlumency had stated that the main purpose of it was to shield your mind against someone skilled in legillmency when you were not telling them the truth. She would be telling the truth and was willing to let Dumbledore pick that up from her mind. Severus theorised that the technique could be adapted to prevent other sorts of interference with the mind. The two of them had practiced trying to change a memory on each other but a minor one about what they had for dinner last week. To her surprise he was right and they had been able to prevent the other from modifying their memory. She was amazed at Severus’ ability to adapt and create spells and potions. Whilst she had no difficulty at all in performing spells and potions already invented, she struggled to come up with something original. 

Now waiting in the headmaster’s office she was aware that protecting herself against him would be far more difficult than the practice session had been with Severus. She told Dumbeldore about the events leading up to her being thrown off the balcony. He questioned her about the polyjuice and then said, “I have spent hours with Professor Moody since your accident and he didn’t take a sip from his flask in all that time, in fact he didn’t drink at all.”

Azalea supplied the reasoning that Severus had suggested, “Maybe that was the real Moody under an Imperius curse.”

“My dear Miss Bennett, Alastor Moody is one of the finest aurors there has ever been, it is doubtful that anyone could use the Imperius curse on him,” Dumbledore said as if explaining it to a child.

“Everyone has their weak spot, Professor so it is not impossible. But why would I make up a story about Moody throwing me over the balcony?”

“I can see that you believe it to be true,” he said. 

Azalea had been anticipating that Dumbledore might try to influence her memory but all the same he was quick. She noticed just in time the tiny movement he made with his wand hand, she saw the flash of colour that preceded the use of magic and with speed learnt from the duelling lessons with Filius and the occlumency practice with Severus, she slammed the shutters to her mind and prevented him from altering her memory. She was deeply disappointed that Dumbledore had seen fit to change her memory, was his loyalty to Moody that strong? She considered it best if he didn’t know he had been unsuccessful.

“Sorry Professor, what was I saying? I’ve lost my train of thought,” she said in a confused way.

“You were saying that couldn’t remember how the accident had occurred,” he supplied.

“Oh yes, I wish I could remember. At the hospital they said memories can return unexpectedly so if anything comes back to me I’ll let you know,” Azalea told him before leaving his office.

Dumbledore thought about the interview with Azalea. She had corroborated the story Graham Pritchard had told him and added the possibility that Moody was not who he said he was. Dumbledore had told Azalea truthfully that he hadn’t seen Moody drink from his hip flask so he wasn’t convinced about the polyjuice theory. All the same he would have to watch Moody carefully. In the meantime he was pleased he had been able to protect another innocent against the forces of evil; next time she saw Moody she would act as if she had no suspicion against him. If Moody was acting for the Voldemort, whether willingly or unwilling, he was not a person anyone would want as an enemy.

\--oOo--

The next month was one of the happiest that Azalea had spent since Edward’s death. Severus and she went on the dates she had suggested and she cherished every minute of them. They kept the fact that they were dating to themselves, as is common for workplace relationships. They spoke of their personal histories and she saw how different his life had been compared to her own. He told her about his lonely and troubled childhood and how he had been bullied at primary school and unable to retaliate in case his brutal father beat him and prevented him going to Hogwarts. He had expected the bullying to stop when he got to Hogwarts but it didn’t, not completely. He had felt safe within the Slytherin House but certain other students – mainly Black and Potter - had continued to torment him. He spoke of his friendship with Lily but not why their friendship had ended. Azalea didn’t press him on the matter. 

They discovered things they had in common, like a wry sense of humour and playing Scrabble, they enjoyed listening to music. Snape had been correct that she preferred popular music to classical but she had gone uncomplaining to a recital with him on one of their dates. Whilst he sat back and let the music wash over him in restful waves, she had dozed off. He had teased her about it afterwards and she said it wasn’t called chamber music for nothing. 

They went for walks along the coast, or in the hills, or around busy towns, holding hands and stopping frequently to admire the view or just enjoy being in the each other’s company, both constantly amazed that the other one wanted to be with them.

Towards the end of May, they returned from a trip to a restaurant where they had enjoyed a convivial meal accompanied by a bottle of wine and were feeling mellow. At Hogwarts Severus remembered that he was supposed to collect something from Flitwick’s office. 

“Wait until tomorrow,” Azalea said, not wanting to say goodnight to him just yet.

“No, I’ll do it now. He said he’d leave it in his office and he’ll be off at choir practice now. If I wait until tomorrow I’ll have to talk to him. You know how he chatters on and I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” he explained. “Why don’t you come with me? The students should be in their common rooms by now, so the corridors will be quiet.” He squeezed her to his side and added in a low voice, “I’m not quite ready to let you go back to your chambers just yet.”

“And I’m not quite ready to go,” she confirmed.

They walked companionably to Flitwick’s office on the seventh floor and Snape let himself in to the office and collected the package which had been left for him. As they walked back along the corridor they stopped by a tapestry of a wizard trying to teach trolls to dance. Azalea stopped to look at it and joked, “That’s look like me when I’m dancing. I’m not very light on my feet.”

Severus responded, “I don’t agree with that, when we were dancing at the Yule Ball you seemed perfectly able to dance to me, in fact I was impressed that you knew any ballroom dances at all.”

“That’s not what my dance partner said when I was learning but he did go on to be a professional dancer so I suppose compared to him anyone danced like a troll.”

“Let’s dance now and I’ll decide if you dance like a troll,” Severus said in mood of levity. They moved together and Severus softly sang a song to accompany them as they waltzed slowly down the corridor. As they held each other close, their bodies were responding to the physical contact in a way they had both been trying to deny for days, if not longer. They looked deep into the other’s eyes seeing the lust reflected there. 

The sound of many voices echoed up the corridor and they pulled apart fearful of being caught. They paced up and down trying to decide which was the best direction to go in order to escape unnoticed. Azalea was muttering under her breath, “We need somewhere private, we need somewhere private, we need somewhere private.”

She saw a door in the wall which she hadn’t noticed before; grabbing Severus’s hand she opened the door and pulled him inside. Closing the door behind her she leaned against it and said, “That was close,” she shifted her weight from the door and commented, “I’ve been along this corridor dozens of times when I go to see Harry and Hermione in their common room and I’ve never noticed this door before.”

They both turned to see which room they had taken refuge in. They seemed to have wandered into a luxurious hotel bedroom suite. There was a large four poster bed big enough to sleep three people, it had pristine white sheets and a duvet decorated in an embossed flower pattern, placed on the bed were a pair of pink cushions resting on the soft white pillows. Suspended between the posts were delicate net curtains currently tied back but could be released to enclose the bed. There was a low plush sofa in the corner of the room with a glass topped coffee table in front of it. A door to the left of the bed revealed a bathroom, the centrepiece of which was the largest bath Azalea had ever seen. Vases of flowers had been placed on the coffee table and the bedside cabinets. Azalea walked over to the bedside cabinets to look at them, she opened a drawer and saw what was inside. She knew now what the room reminded her of, the honeymoon suite of a hotel she had worked in as a chambermaid when she was student at university.

But why was there a honeymoon suite at Hogwarts? She glanced at Severus who appeared just as bemused as she was. Whatever the reason Azalea came to a decision. She stood close to him and asked softly, “Do you remember on New Year’s Eve you said I could have you but not then because I was drunk?” 

“I remember,” he said in a low voice, hoping she was going to suggest what he wanted her to suggest.

She did. “I’m not drunk today, so I can have you now?”

He pretended to think about it, “it would be shame to waste this beautiful room and that extremely large, comfortable bed wouldn’t it?”

“And the bath,” she added.

“No, we mustn’t forget the bath but I think we should try the bed first.” With that he swept her off her feet into his arms and carried her to the bed. 

She leant down from his hold and opened the drawer. “There's everything we may require in here,” she said indicating the contents of the drawer which contained, among other things, contraceptives. 

He picked one up “This is all I need from here, when I’ve got you,” he said huskily shutting the drawer firmly. That night they took all they needed from each other.

The next morning Azalea was woken by the shrill sound of an alarm. She located the source of it; a clock on the bedside cabinet which she quickly silenced. She felt someone stir next to her and looked into Severus’ sleepy face, “Good morning,” she said smiling at him, “it looks like this room does give us everything we require, even if we don’t want it. It’s time to get up, a busy day ahead.”

“I’m already up,” he said wickedly and moved the covers to show her. 

The lust flashed in her eyes. “Don’t move from there. I’m going to get the bath running and we’ll need to occupy ourselves while it’s filling up won’t we?”

“I can’t think of a better way to start the day, hurry back” he urged her, delighted with her suggestion and her joy at waking up with him.

They both missed breakfast that day but had satisfied another hunger.

\--oOo--

Later that day Dumbledore invited Snape for one of his little chats. When Snape arrived for the meeting at the Headmaster’s office, Dumbledore opened the conversation with, “Ah Severus, I was pleased to see you at dinner this evening, you weren’t at breakfast.”

“No, I wasn’t,” he agreed.

“Neither was Miss Bennett,” added Dumbledore.

“I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t there,” he repeated, looking at Dumbledore with equanimity.

“I’m glad that Miss Bennett has made a good recovery after her accident,” observed Dumbledore.

“As are all the staff,” said Snape but continued in a bitter voice, “Except Moody, he must be furious that she regained consciousness.”

“I have found no evidence of Moody’s involvement in Miss Bennett’s accident,” Dumbledore told him “and I assure you that I have been watching him most carefully. He is a good teacher, popular with the students and shows no ill will towards Miss Bennett.”

“I hear she doesn’t attend his class anymore,” remarked Snape, who had pleaded with Azalea not to put herself at risk by doing so.

“She knows the basics about the Defence of the Dark Arts and there are other subjects she needs to learn. I am also aware that she no longer attends your potions classes,” Dumbledore countered.

Azalea and Snape had mutually agreed that she would stop attending his classes once they had started dating and she went to classes with one of the other potion teachers. Snape responded to Dumbledore, “As you say, she knows the basics, she is a quick study. However, I am no threat to her safety.”

“Are you not?” enquired Dumbledore raising his eyebrows, “I think you could be a very great threat to her safety - to all our safety - if you fail in the task you have agreed to do.”

Snape was exasperated at once again being reminded of his agreement. “I will not fail,” he stated simply. He would never fail to protect Leah, he would die first.

Dumbledore took the conversation off on a tangent, “As you know, the Third task is a maze which is currently growing on the Quidditch pitch.” Snape nodded assent. “Although the Ministry of Magic has overall control for the arrangements, I intend to ask a member of Hogwarts staff to monitor what is happening.” Snape remained silent waiting for Dumbledore to come to the point. “To that end I have asked Professor Moody to act as the eyes and ears for Hogwarts,” Dumbledore finished.

Snape exploded in anger, “Have you lost all your common sense? You may have found no evidence of Moody’s involvement with Azalea’s accident but that doesn’t mean he is innocent. Choose any other member of staff, it need not be me, but just not him! If he does have an ulterior motive he could sabotage the course. Please, Albus, reconsider.”

“No, Professor Snape, I will not reconsider”, Dumbledore stated firmly. “Your dislike of Professor Moody is not sufficient reason for me to change my mind. He has considerable experience in identifying and uncovering plots and schemes and has an eye for the dark arts. He is the best man for the job.”

Snape continued to argue his case, “You’re right that I do dislike him but that’s not the reason I believe you should choose someone else. If my suspicions about Moody are correct you would put the champions in grave danger, especially Potter.”

“And if your suspicions are wrong then I could be unfairly maligning an innocent man and putting the champions at risk by not having the person with the appropriate experience to watch over the arrangements” Dumbledore responded. “My decision is made, I have told you in advance of the other staff members because I anticipated your reaction and wanted to discuss it in private. I will continue to observe Professor Moody and should I suspect anything I will give the task to someone else.”

Snape sprang out of the chair and swept towards the door saying angrily, “You place too much confidence in your own abilities; you should listen to the advice of others. I hope you are willing to accept responsibility when Potter pays the price for your hubris.” He yanked the door open and strode out the room. As he emerged from the bottom of the staircase he saw a figure running away who he recognised instantly. “POTTER!” he called loudly. The boy skidded to a halt. “What are you doing here?” Snape asked.

“I need to see Professor Dumbledore,” Potter said breathing heavily, “It’s Mr Crouch … he’s just turned up… he’s in the forest… he’s asking – “.

Snape, whose mind had been on Moody, thought, Crouch? Why is the boy wittering on about Crouch? “What is this rubbish?” he said aloud, his eyes reflecting his confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Mr Crouch!” Potter shouted. “From the Ministry. He’s ill or something – he’s in the forest, he wants to see Dumbledore! Just give me the password up to – “.

“The Headmaster is busy,” Snape said with an attempt at a smile, something he found difficult to do with Potter.

“I’ve got to tell Dumbledore!” Potter yelled.

Snape wanted to find out from Potter what the problem was so that he could help him without the need to involve the Headmaster. “Didn’t you hear me, Potter ..?” he started but before he could continue and offer to help Potter interrupted speaking angrily,

“Look, Crouch isn’t right – he’s – he’s out of his mind – he says he wants to warn – “

At that point the door to the staircase slid open and Dumbledore emerged asking if there was a problem. Before Snape could say a word Potter told the headmaster that Mr Crouch was in the forest and wanted to see him. 

“Lead the way,” Dumbledore instructed Potter and swept past Snape without a glance in his direction to indicate that he was to come too. Snape remained standing by the gargoyle at the bottom of the stairs watching them leave; his face contorting in concern with this latest turn of events.


	35. Thinking of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea and Severus discover a new talent.

Azalea believed she was officially, albeit not publically, in a serious relationship with Severus, but she was not the type of person to forget her other friends when a boyfriend came on the scene. She continued to have duelling lessons with Filius, go on excursions with Sirius and to socialise with Hogwarts staff. Sometimes she struggled to fit it all in with her studies, teaching and proof reading, if only she could turn back time and increase the number of hours in a day. 

“Harry,” Azalea called as ran across the grass to catch up with him. He was in discussion with Hermione and Ron as they strolled round the Hogwarts grounds. The three friends stopped and waited for her to reach them. “I took the dog for a walk yesterday and something came up that I want to ask you.”

“How is Snuffles?” Harry asked.

“Worried.” Azalea replied succinctly. “And so am I. Since that incident with Mr Crouch, Snuffles sees plots to harm you everywhere.”

“I’m nearly all the way through the school year and no one has tried to kill me yet,” Harry said with a laugh.

“Don’t tempt fate Harry,” Azalea said seriously “you’ve only got two weeks to go before the third task. I think if anyone is going to attack you it will be during the task.”

“Unlikely.” said Harry confidently. “The maze has been set up by the Ministry, the creatures I have to fight in the maze aren’t going to kill me. The maze is probably the safest place for me to be. Oh, and Professor Moody has been keeping an eye on it too.”

Azalea snorted at the mention of Moody’s name. “I can see you’ve been speaking to Professor Dumbledore about the security of the maze and personally I wouldn’t put too much faith in Professor Moody.”

“I trust both of them,” Harry said glaring at Azalea. “What did you want to ask me?”

Azalea sighed, once more her warnings about Moody went unheeded. “Snuffles tells me that three of you have been practicing spells for the third task.”

“That’s right,” said Hermione, “it was Snuffle’s suggestion.”

“And a good one too. I want to help you. I’ve been taking duelling lessons with Professor Flitwick so I can show you a few defensive and offensive moves.” Azalea offered.

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances and Azalea suspected that they had already discussed who they might ask for help. Clearly she had not been on the list. “Well, Azalea, it’s like this,” began Ron, “you’ve been learning magic for less time than any of us so we probably already know as much as you do.”

“I’m sure you know more than me about many aspects of magic,” she agreed, “but I can teach you some duelling moves that may save Harry’s life. Do you know about the shield charm?”

“Not yet,” admitted Harry, “We’re going to try that one next time.”

“Good,” said Azalea. “Tell me when and where you’re going to practice it and I’ll come along.” She gave them a frank stare, daring them to deny her. The three friends capitulated and told her of the arrangements. “That should help ease Snuffle’s worry,” she said gratefully. “In the meantime, constant vigilance.”

Harry gave a short laugh, “Now you’re quoting Professor Moody,” he remarked.

“I know good advice when I hear it, regardless of who it came from,” Azalea said smartly and left them to continue the discussion which she had interrupted. 

\--oOo--

A few days later, Azalea and Sirius were out on an excursion, Sirius had taken the polyjuice and was now dressed in the body which was almost as familiar to him as his own. They were sitting in a pub which was fitted out with screens made of glass and timber between the tables, giving the illusion of privacy. They each had a pint of beer and Sirius’ was going down with alarming speed. “You drink too much when we’re out,” Azalea admonished him.

“I’m making up for lost time,” he told her cheekily. “I’ve got twelve years’ worth of beer drinking to do.”

“You don’t have to do it all at once, you’ve got years of life ahead of you.”

“No-one knows what the future holds,” he intoned in a sonorous voice which made her laugh. He then downed the rest of the beer and went to the bar to buy another. When he returned he put the glass down on the table untouched and asked her how Harry’s practising was coming along.

“It’s going as well as could be expected,” she replied. “The other champions are three years older than he is and have had specific training in fighting. I’ve shown him a few moves and some spells like the disarming and stunning spells, he is a quick learner with a natural ability but there’s so little time left. He’s practising with Ron and Hermione for every spare minute they find.”

“They’re good friends,” Sirius remarked.

“Yes they are,” she agreed, “and they’ve already been through far more than any 14 year olds should have, what with Quirrell, basilisks and dementors.”

“At least the maze should be safe, it’s been designed by the Ministry with safeguards everywhere,” Sirius said with confidence and Azalea didn’t have the heart to burden him with her fears about Moody possibly sabotaging the event. 

“Let’s look to the future shall we?” asked Azalea, “Specifically the school summer holidays. As our Easter holiday arrangements were somewhat disrupted, shall we invite Harry to stay with us at Grimmauld Place, for the whole holiday?”

Sirius replied, “I’ve already mentioned this to Dumbledore and he said that Harry has to spend some time with his aunt and uncle in Privet Drive.”

“Why?” asked Azalea, “they hate him and he hates being there. Surely Dumbledore must have some concern for Harry’s happiness?”

“I said pretty much the same thing to him,” Sirius said. He took a mouthful of beer then continued to speak, “he said he had his reasons and that I should trust him to do the right thing.”

Azalea responded in exasperation, “I hate it when he says that. He expects people to trust him; why doesn’t he trust them back? What would happen if he got run over by the proverbial bus tomorrow? How would anyone know what his plans were? Any of us could inadvertently spoil all the schemes he is working so hard to implement: - including the fate of Harry.”

“I agree entirely with you. We’ll have to hope that he lives until Harry is an adult.” Sirius raised his glass and said facetiously “So let’s drink to Dumbledore’s long and healthy life.”

Azalea picked her up and clinked it against his saying, “To Dumbledore’s long, healthy and accident free life.” 

They both took a large mouthful of beer and turned the conversation to other subjects.

\--oOo--

As the month of June progressed, the days lengthened and become warmer as spring ended and summer crept in. Azalea and Severus were in the Forbidden Forest, lying skin to skin under a blanket relaxing in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Both were reluctant to start the tasks they had set for the day. It was Severus who relented first. He held Azalea close to him but the act of doing so made him want her again. He released his hold and moved a couple of inches away saying, “As much as I hate to say it, we need to get on with our work. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

Azalea raised her eyebrows in amusement and commented, “Wasted?”

“Wrong choice of word. Time with you is never wasted,” he replied with a grin.

“I know. I like to waste my time with you too,” she told him, “but you are right, let’s get on with the work we’re supposed to be doing.”

They dressed slowly and sat on the blanket that had been covering them and got on with the work they had brought with them which was woefully overdue – Azalea proof reading and Severus marking homework.

They worked conscientiously for a couple of hours. The natural sounds of the forest as background noise to the scratching of their pens, or in Severus’ case, a quill. Azalea didn’t get on with quills and would use a muggle ballpoint pen out of choice, especially for the proof reading corrections. She heard Severus complain, “The spelling on this paper is appalling. The student must have chosen letters at random in the hope and expectation it would create a real word.”

Azalea paused in her work, “Why don’t you use the spell checker charm I use?” she suggested. “You’d still have to read the paper for sense but it would save time with the mundane part.”

“I don’t read much sense in these papers,” he mumbled but replied to her idea, “No, I couldn’t use the spell checker. As a teacher I owe to the students to read every word of drivel that they have written.”

Azalea shrugged and returned to her proof reading thinking, there’s nothing wrong with using labour saving devices - it’s not cheating.

Severus spoke aloud, “I didn’t say it was cheating.”

Azalea looked up sharply, “Neither did I.”

He regarded her quizzically, “I thought I heard you speak.”

“No,” she stated then heard him correct her.

You said labour saving devices weren’t cheating.

“Well they’re not,” she continued.

“Not what?” he asked.

“Not cheating. Labour saving devices aren’t cheating.”

“I didn’t mention labour saving devices” he responded in a slightly irritated tone.

“Yes you did. You said that I’d said labour saving devices weren’t cheating,” Azalea explained.

“You did say it, I’ve never heard the expression “labour saving devices” before; it must be a muggle phrase,” Severus said getting more and more confused by the slightly surreal conversation they were having.

Azalea was puzzled too but wasn’t going to continue to argue over such a trivial thing. She returned her attention to the proof reading with no further comment.

“You’re right,” he said conciliatingly, “it is too trivial to argue about.”

This time Azalea was certain she had not spoken. She put down her pen and stared at him, struck by an inspired realisation. “Severus?”

“Yes,” he grunted still concentrating on his marking.

Would you like a drink? I’ve brought pumpkin juice or there’s hot coffee in a flask.

“Coffee please,” he answered.

She found the flask and filled two cups with coffee and handed him one. Here’s yours.

“Mmm, thanks,” he muttered reaching out for it. As she handed the cup across it slipped from her grasp and spilled over the pile of scripts he had yet to mark. He drew back sharply and she clearly heard him say in annoyance, Why can’t you be more careful! But his lips didn’t move. He swiftly produced his wand and cleared up the coffee before the brown stain seeped into the parchment.

Azalea took away the empty cup and started to hand him the second, full, cup. “Severus look at me.” He glanced across, still annoyed at her clumsiness, and heard her say, We’ve just conducted that entire conversation without me speaking a word. Can you still hear me?

“Of course I can hear you, you’re right next to me,” he snapped.

But I’m not speaking aloud, you’re hearing what I think.

This time he put his work to one side and paid attention to her words, “What did you say? How can I hear what you think?”

I don’t know, she said to him but still using only her mind, but I think you can do it too. Ask me a question but only thinking it, not speaking it.

He had clearly heard her request and he had noticed that her lips didn’t move although that didn’t necessarily mean she was only speaking with her mind, she was a good witch. All the same he decided to indulge her and thought his question at her. What is the main ingredient in a sleeping draught?

She smiled, “Trust you to ask a question about potions. Belladonna is the main ingredient in a sleeping draught.”

He was shocked. How had she done that? How had he done that?

“I really don’t know,” Azalea replied aloud, “but I think if we specifically direct a question at the other one, somehow we can hear each other. In the muggle world it’s called telepathy.”

Severus was not entirely convinced but at her urging they experimented some more to see if she was right. They stood some distance apart with the trees obscuring their line of sight and thought questions to each other. Azalea seemed to have interpreted the situation correctly; they had to consciously address a comment or question to the other in order to be heard. It wasn’t like mind reading; they couldn’t hear the workings of the mind unless invited to do so. 

“Is this going to be a burden or boon?” Azalea wondered aloud when they had were convinced they could communicate telepathically.

“Only time will tell,” he replied, then added lasciviously “but in the meantime read this thought.” 

She grinned at him and they made use of the blanket once more wasting time whilst their work lay forgotten beside them.


	36. The Third Task

The third task was scheduled for the evening of 24th June, prior to that was a feast. Azalea sat in her usual place next to Filius and Charity but she had a feeling of foreboding and wasn’t her usual sparkling self. She knew that Filius was going to be on patrol around the maze and reminded him several times to be on the lookout for anything amiss, which he promised to do. 

Finally the meal ended, the champions set off to the maze and the spectators followed a few minutes later. Azalea walked out with the students as they filed down to the Quidditch field and took their seats in the spectator stands. The hedges surrounding the Quidditch field had grown to over twenty feet high and she sighed. This task wasn’t going to be much fun for the spectators, if it wasn’t for her worry over Harry she probably wouldn’t have bothered to attend. She chose a seat as high up in the stands as she could hoping that she might be able to see over the hedges. She couldn’t make out anything and the darkness didn’t help, casting the avenues in the maze into gloomy shadows. She reserved the seat next to her for Charity who she could see making her way over towards her. 

Whilst she waited for Charity to arrive she thought about Severus. He was never far from her thoughts these days and she had to take care that she kept her thoughts private and not broadcast them telepathically to him. So far they had limited the telepathic link between then to make arrangements to meet. She refrained from contacting him as much as she really wanted to because she didn’t want to appear to be needy. She longed to tell him how much she loved him but she was fearful of scaring him away if she sought commitment too early in the relationship. She looked over to him; he was haranguing some students and no doubt being sarcastic. His unkindness to the students was one of his less attractive qualities. She saw that Charity had almost reached her so Azalea ceased her train of thought and greeted her friend.

Snape was walking around the spectators area; he had not been invited to patrol the outside of the maze, that task had been given to Hagrid, Moody, McGongall and Flitwick. He was still outraged that Dumbledore could even think of letting Moody anywhere near the maze. He walked around the spectator area, occasionally snarling at the students.

“Get a move on boy, we haven’t got all night.”

“A snail could move faster than you.”

“When you two have quite finished your conversation you might like to tell the rest of us what was so interesting that your feet couldn’t move when your mouth was.”

However, he changed his demeanour for one particular student, “Pritchard, I think you’ll find the seats at the top of the stand will give the best view. I can still see some are still empty, if you hurry you should be able to get one.”

He looked across to where Azalea was sitting; a vacant seat beside her that she was saving for Charity. She was lost in her own thoughts. He indulged himself in thinking about her. He remembered her face the morning after they had first made love, she had smiled, pleased to be waking up next to him. He now understood that the expression “making love” wasn’t just a euphemism for sex. It was so much more than just a physical activity when it was with somebody you cared about. No - he shouldn’t fool himself - when it was with someone you loved - and he loved Azalea with his heart, his body and his soul. The way he loved Azalea was completely different to the love he had felt – still felt – for Lily. That was a love born out of long association and friendship, which he had spoiled in a thoughtless moment and compounded by his refusal to give up his interest in the dark arts. In the end his love for Lily had been corrupted by guilt. He didn’t want to delve too deeply into his current feelings for Lily but he was certain his love for Azalea was real and better than anything he had ever felt for Lily.

He hadn’t yet told Azalea he loved her and he knew the reason – it was fear. Not fear of commitment, that held no fear for him, it was fear of rejection. He believed she loved him but she was so guarded. Her skill at occlumency now almost matched his own and he couldn’t be entirely certain of how she felt unless she told him. He tried to catch her eye so that he could speak to her telepathically but she was watching Charity who was making her way to the seat. He returned his attention to the spectators.

The whistle to commence the third task sounded and the audience went silent as they watched the two leading champions, Harry and Cedric, enter the maze, after a couple of minutes the contender in second place (Victor) went in followed by the third placed champion, Fleur. Now all the champions were inside and the spectators settled down to wait. The sounds coming from the maze and the flash of wand fire illuminating the darkness of the maze were the only indication for the audience of the events occurring in the maze. Suddenly the shrill sound of Fleur screaming pierced the air and the spectators abruptly fell silent, waiting for sight of red sparks to show where she was. They did not appear. A short time later Krum’s voice could be clearly heard shouting “Crucio” immediately followed by yells from Cedric. The hush from the audience intensified; then pockets of whispering broke out, why was Krum apparently trying to perform an unforgiveable curse on Cedric? Harry’s voice rang out from the maze “Stupefy!” Silence fell again and then a plume of red sparks could be seen from the maze, the sign that a contestant was down. The teachers who were patrolling the maze flew into the maze and emerged a few minutes later with the inert body of Victor Krum. The spectators now knew the contest was between Harry and Cedric. Unable to see inside the maze, an occasional shouted spell from Harry was all they had to go on about the events taking place inside. The words “Cedric! On your left!” rang out from the maze, shortly followed by Harry’s urgent shouts of “Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy”. Then two voices shouted in unison “Stupefy!” A muffled thump could be heard in the ringing silence that followed. “Harry!” Cedric’s voice sounded concerned, “You all right? Did it fall on you?” The audience held its breath waiting for a response and wondering what manner of monster might have fallen on Harry. “No,” came his voice and the spectators breathed out knowing the two Hogwarts champions were both still in the race. In the quiet that followed, the audience were aware of Harry and Cedric having a quick fire conversation but they couldn’t make out the detail. The words “One - two – three” sang out from the maze. The audience started to cheer but immediately realised something was wrong when a howl of wind and a swirl of colour rose out from the centre of the maze. Everything was still for a split second before the patrolling teachers sprang into action and McGonagall flew straight into the centre. She re-appeared almost instantly shouting, “They’ve gone, there’s no one there!”

The crowd responded with a collective gasp then a torrent of conversations erupted from all corners of the stands. Azalea felt her stomach lurch in concern for Harry. She and Charity exchanged glances and without a word Azalea levitated from her seat and flew into the centre of the maze. She could see a giant spider lying motionless against the hedge but she barely registered its presence. She was looking for traces of magic. All spells left a trace of colour which she could see: the stronger the spell the longer the colour lingered. The colours of the “stupefy” and “impedimenta” spells she’d heard the boys shout had already gone but there was something fading even as she looked at it. She recognised the colours – the hues of a portkey. She felt a slight movement of air and someone landed beside her, she stepped back ready to defend herself but she didn’t need to; it was Severus.

“Severus.” She went up to him. “It was a portkey. Someone must have put a portkey here. Harry and Cedric could be anywhere. I’ve no idea where they went and I don’t know how to find them,” she said in distress.

Snape did not know how she knew there had been a portkey but he believed her immediately and it fitted the circumstances. Before he could reply, other people flew or ran in to join them, one of whom was Moody. Azalea narrowed her eyes when she saw Moody and unconsciously moved to stand closer to Snape. He followed her line of vision and noticed a gleam in Moody’s good eye as if he was pleased in a job well done. At the same time Snape was thrilled that Azalea had instinctively come to him for protection. 

McGonagall’s voice came from behind them, “We’ve located Miss Delacour and we’ve already retrieved Mr Krum. It is only Harry and Cedric that are missing.” She commenced to issue instructions, “Professor Moody would you look around here to see if there are any clues as to what happened. Professor Snape, please would you help with keeping the students and other spectators in the stands whilst the headmaster and the other judges work out what’s happened.” 

Azalea interjected, “Professor McGonagall, I already know what’s happened. Harry and Cedric have been taken somewhere via a portkey.”

McGonagall appeared to have only just noticed Azalea’s presence and said imperiously “Miss Bennett, please return to your seat and leave the investigation to the senior staff.”

Azalea glared at McGonagall, resenting being treated like a child, she contemptuously clicked her fingers and disapparated in a fit of pique. Snape kept a straight face but Azalea’s reaction had amused him. After she’d passed her apparation test (first time, of course) she would click her fingers when she disappeared, she’d said it was a muggle thing and would laugh as she did it. Only later did it occur to him that she had disapparated within the grounds of Hogwarts.

Snape returned to the spectator stands as requested but it wasn’t difficult to keep the students in line, no one wanted to leave until they had found out what had happened. After an hour or so Snape began to feel uneasy for no reason he could discern. He walked up and down the stands to keep his mind off it when an agonising pain enveloped his left arm, a burning sensation as if his arm was on fire – a pain he hadn’t felt for 13 years - and he’d hope against hope that he would never feel again. He staggered on a step and drew in a sharp breath. He felt Azalea’s concerned question in his mind, ^^Are you all right?^^ He hadn’t noticed she’d been watching him, he hoped no one else was as observant. 

^^I’m fine^^ he responded, ^^I stubbed my toe.^^

She didn’t reply and he noticed she was no longer looking in his direction. She said something to Charity and walked quickly down the steps hurrying into the darkness once she reached the bottom. 

Snape felt an urge to look at the dark mark on his arm as if in some way it hadn’t really happened until he saw, as well as felt, the change. He walked down the steps at a controlled pace despite his growing panic. He went to the rear of the stands and stood underneath them where he was hidden from view. The area under the stands was dim, the seats above blocking out any light from the moon. He pulled up his sleeve, illuminated his wand to a low light and looked at the dark mark. For years it had been a dull grey colour with faded reds and greens but now the grey had transformed to a jet black, the red to a fiery scarlet and the green to a deep hue the colour of pine needles. As a piece of body art it was stunning in its vibrancy and attention to detail, but to Snape it was sinister and terrifying in the implications it now had for him. There was no doubt the Dark Lord had returned and was calling for his followers.

If Voldemort was back then Snape must conclude that Harry’s disappearance was connected. Did it mean that Harry had been killed? The thought of that tore at his conscience. Had he failed Lily by not doing enough to protect her beloved son? He paced back and forth under the stands rubbing his arm in agitation. Whatever the fate of Harry, Snape had to make a decision. Should he respond to the call? If he didn’t, the Voldemort would hunt him down and kill him. He didn’t want to die now he had finally found a reason for living in Azalea. If he did respond then what would his role be? He still wanted revenge for Lily but that would much harder to achieve without Voldemort feeling threatened by Harry and the prophecy to keep Voldemort’s attention focused on his own survival. Logically, and to give himself the best chance of survival, Snape knew he should go to Voldemort. He needed to consult Dumbledore so there would be no ambiguity in the headmaster’s mind as to why Snape had gone. The decision made, Snape left the shelter of the stands and made his way to the entrance to the maze where Dumbledore and the other judges were located.

He approached slowly, his reluctance evident in every step he took. He glanced around to seek Azalea but she wasn’t anywhere he could see her. He continued to walk; as he got closer he could make out Dumbledore’s figure who was talking intently to Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. A commotion erupted by the hedge closest to the maze entrance and two bodies slammed into the grass. Snape increased his pace and ran the last few yards. When he arrived he could see it was Potter and Cedric both lying face down on the ground, the Triwizard Cup held tightly in Potter’s hand and Cedric unnaturally still. Dumbledore had turned Potter over and Potter released his hold on the cup which fell to his side. Snape was overwhelmed with relief that Potter was still alive. He heard Potter whisper to Dumbledore “He’s back. Voldemort.” Dumbledore was aware of Snape’s approach and he glanced up swiftly at him, Snape gave an almost imperceptible nod and the worried look on Dumbledore’s face deepened. 

Fudge had approached the scene and his whispered words were taken up by those standing closest to him and soon echoing around the arena like a crescendo - “Cedric’s dead!” Snape looked over at Cedric’s limp body and was deeply saddened at the loss of a fine young man. He guessed that his death was attributable to Voldemort. Cedric was just an innocent who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, although where that place had been he would have to find out from Potter. By now he could no longer see Potter, who was obscured by the crowd of people around him. Snape saw Dumbledore emerge and walk over to meet Cedric’s parents. Snape kept his distance out of respect for the dignity of Cedric’s parents. He saw Cedric’s mother collapse into the arms of her husband and Dumbledore’s sympathetically place a hand on Amos Diggory’s shoulder before he left them in the care of Professor Sprout who was Cedric’s Head of House. Snape strode to match Dumbledore’s passage through crowd to where he had left Potter, but Potter was nowhere to be seen. 

“Professor Moody took him to the hospital wing,” replied a student to Dumbledore’s urgent questioning as to Harry’s whereabouts. Without a word Dumbledore immediately left the scene almost at a run with Snape and McGonagall following in his wake. Dumbledore did not go to the hospital wing, instead he headed straight for Moody’s office. The door was locked when they arrived. Dumbledore wasted no time on knocking or trying to open it he simply lifted his wand and blasted it off its hinges, the door shattered into a dozen pieces which flew inside the room and clattered onto the floor. Snape saw a tableaux of Potter, wand outstretched, and Moody’s body thrown onto the floor, whether it was there by Potter’s action or the force of the blast was unclear. The look on Dumbledore’s face was one of cold fury which Snape rarely saw reflected there. 

Harry spoke in disbelief, “How can it have been Moody?”

“That is not Professor Moody,” said Dumbledore refusing to meet Snape’s eye as he said it. He instructed Snape to fetch some truth potion and to get Winky from the kitchen. McGonagall he asked to collect a dog from Hagrid’s house then take it to Dumbledore’s office. As Snape left to comply with the request, he saw Azalea hurrying towards Moody’s office, he stepped aside to let her in and rushed to his office to get the truth potion.

When he returned, Azalea was standing by Potter; a trunk was open and Azalea was looking down into it but Snape’s attention was drawn at once to a figure lying on the floor in the position where Moody had been when he’d left. Snape recognised him, “Crouch!” he said in startled voice, “Barty Crouch!”

Professor McGonagall had arrived at the same time as Snape and upon seeing Crouch she exclaimed “Good heavens!” and gave Dumbledore a questioning look.

Dumbledore was holding a hip flask in his hand, which Snape recognised as the one Moody always drank from. Dumbledore lifted the flask, shook it slightly and said by way of explanation, “polyjuice potion.”

“Polyjuice potion? Who could ever had guessed that?” Snape observed sardonically. Dumbledore flashed him a look of annoyance but Snape’s countenance remained impassive.

Snape heard Azalea’s amused voice in his head ^^touché^^. 

^^I couldn’t resist^^ he replied.

Dumbledore administered the truth potion to Barty Crouch and they all listened to the tale emerge. How Barty had been gaoled for being a death eater but had escaped from Azkaban aided by his dying mother; his imprisonment in his father’s house; his trip to the Quidditch World Cup; Voldemort’s interrogation of the missing Ministry official, Bertha Jorkins, leading to the reinstatement of Barty in Voldemort’s service; how Voldemort had stayed at the Crouch house and controlled Barty’s father; the scheme to impersonate Moody and to ensure that Harry Potter won the Triwzard tournament and finally the success of the plan and Voldemort’s return. 

During the story Winky had been imploring Barty not to tell the story but he was compelled to do so by the truth potion. It was obvious to those listening that he was proud of his actions and the truth came out of him easily. At the end of his tale Winky was sobbing by his side. Azalea went to her, took her hand and knelt down so she was on same level as the house elf. “Winky,” she said softly, “you did all you could for the family you served. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Without you this poor deluded man’s life would have been ten times worse than it was. Nothing is your fault. You served your family well and anyone would be proud for you to be a part of their family.”

Azalea’s green eyes were full of compassion as she looked into Winky’s tear stained face, “Is that what my lady believes?”

“Yes, Winky – I believe it. I know this may be hard for you to see but when Mr Crouch released you from his service he saved you from being controlled by Voldemort.”

Winky thought about Azalea’s words, “Yes I do see. Voldemort is a bad man and killed my master. Now I am a free elf. I will fight Voldemort,” she said firmly.

“As we will all, Winky, as will we all,” affirmed Dumbledore who had overheard the exchange.


	37. Eternally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the third task

Dumbledore issued instructions to McGonagall and Snape who left to carry out the tasks assigned to them. Once they had left, Dumbledore invited Harry back to his office and Azalea followed them to the headmaster’s office. She was surprised to see Sirius there, he was looking thin again. He helped Harry into a chair and Dumbledore quickly told Sirius all that Barty Crouch had confessed. A bird flew over to Harry, a type which Azalea had never seen before. Harry informed her it was a phoenix whilst he gently stroked its beautiful gold and red plumage, the action had a calming effect on Harry and Azalea left them alone. Over Sirius’s objections, Dumbledore asked Harry to tell them what had happened after he’d touched the Triwizard cup. Harry explained about the portkey, the death of Cedric, the ceremony involving Tom Riddle’s bones, Wormtail’s hand and Harry’s blood which brought Voldemort back to full strength. He told how Voldemort had summoned the death eaters and finally how he had forced Harry to duel with him and the strange way the two wands had reacted. Dumbledore described this phenomenon as Priori Incantatem and it had undoubtedly saved Harry’s life. At one point Sirius seemed close to tears and Azalea went over to where he sat and put her hand on his arm in a comforting gesture, he glanced at her and covered her hand with his. Dumbledore suggested to Harry that he spend the night in the hospital and invited Sirius to join him. Sirius let go of Azalea’s hand, nodded, stood up, changed into his dog form and went with them to the hospital wing. Azalea followed on behind unnoticed and she hadn’t even used the concealment charm.

The hospital room was busy when they arrived. Ron and Hermione were there, as Azalea would have expected, but also one of the dragon handlers who Azalea remembered was Ron’s brother and an older woman who must be Ron’s mother. Dumbledore calmed them all down and Harry lay on a bed to rest. He took a couple of sips from a potion given to him by Madam Pomfrey and slipped into a calm doze. While Harry slept, Azalea took a seat close to his bed and Sirius, still in his dog form, sat on the floor his body leaning against her legs and his head resting on the mattress, not taking his eyes off Harry. Hermione and the Weasleys sat around the bed and for a short time the room was peaceful, the lights dimmed, and they had a whispered conversation. 

Molly began, “So, you’re Azalea, Harry’s cousin.”

“That’s right; Lily’s mother and mine were sisters.”

Molly commented, “I can see a family resemblance, especially in the eyes but otherwise not much. I expect you take after your father.”

“Possibly,” replied Azalea, “I never met my father, he left before I was born. I wish I’d known him; my mother was deeply in love with him. I’ve always thought he must have been a good man for my mother to love him so. ”

“He couldn’t have been that good or he would never have left,” Molly said wryly.

Azalea laughed, “That’s true. May be she was attracted to bad boys.”

“And you?” enquired Molly, “Are you attracted to bad boys?”

Azalea thought about Edward, there hadn’t been a bad bone in his body and Severus; was he a bad boy? “No,” Azalea replied “it’s only good men for me.”

“Me too,” said Molly, “and my husband is the best man in the world.”

“Ah mum, stop being so soppy,” complained Ron “you’re embarrassing me.”

“I’m making up for the times when you embarrassed me,” she said.

Hermione leaned in to the conversation at that point, “Ooh Mrs Weasley, can you think of an example of when Ron embarrassed you?” she asked mischievously. 

“Well,” said Molly leaning back in the chair, “there was a time when, unbeknown to me, Ron found some bright blue sweets which Fred and George had hidden in their room and he’d scoffed the lot.” Ron, who had clearly heard the story before, groaned and hid his head in his hands. Molly continued undeterred, “Ron was about 3 years old and I needed to go to the shops to buy some cheese. I couldn’t leave Ron behind (the older children were at school) so I took him and Ginny with me and flew to the shops on my broomstick. It was a blustery day and the journey was a bit bumpy. When we got there, I waited in the queue and hadn’t noticed that Ron was looking a bit peaky. He leant over the cheese counter and promptly vomited all over the cheese on display. The vomit was bright blue and splattered everywhere – it looked like every cheese had gone mouldy!” Hermione and Azalea laughed at the image and the embarrassment to Molly. “I offered to clear it up but they shooed me out of the shop as quickly as they could in case Ron still had more left in him. I couldn’t go into that shop for months afterwards.” Molly concluded. 

Hermione begged Molly to tell more stories about Ron and she obliged. As she started the third story Harry became more aware of the conversation going on around him and started to listen, his eyes still closed in apparent sleep. Molly recounted the story with humour but also with love for her son. Harry sympathised with Ron’s embarrassment but he envied him the fact that someone had cared enough for him as a child to remember these small things and find them amusing. He would have given anything to be in Ron’s situation and be embarrassed if it meant his mother was still alive to do so. He felt tears of self pity spring to his eyes and start to seep out from under his eyelids. When Molly finished with the third story she felt sorry for Ron’s embarrassment and told Hermione she would tell her some more another day and the group lapsed into silence. 

The quiet was shattered when Minister Fudge, Snape and McGonagall stormed in to the room arguing loudly and closely followed in by Dumbledore. Harry woke up fully and sat up to see what was causing the commotion. Azalea listened in astonishment as she learned that Fudge had seen fit to bring a dementor into Hogwarts which had promptly killed Barty Crouch, no wonder everyone was so angry, was the minister an idiot? As she heard more of the discussion she came to the conclusion that the Minister was indeed an idiot, or was he in Voldemort’s camp, acting on orders? Sometimes you couldn’t tell who the good guys were. The argument as to whether or not Voldemort had returned raged back and forth with Fudge on one side, unconvinced and refusing to take advice, and Dumbledore and Harry on the other. Finally, Fudge said in a slightly pleading voice, “he can’t be back, Dumbledore, he just can’t be…”

Azalea saw Severus step forward, pulling up the sleeve of his robe as he went. ^^No Severus, please, no^^ she begged him wordlessly when she realised what he was going to do, but it was too late he’d gone too far to stop.

He thrust his arm towards Fudge, “There,” Snape said harshly, “There’s the Dark Mark. It’s not as clear as it was an hour or so ago when it burned black but you can still see it. It is the way the Dark Lord summons the Death Eaters to him. He is back.”

Fudge looked repelled at the sight of the dark mark and left the hospital wing saying he must return to the Ministry. Once he was gone, Dumbledore looked around at everyone left in the room. “There is work to be done,” he said. “Molly, I can count on you and Arthur?”

“Of course you can,” she replied.

Dumbledore gave other instructions to Bill, Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey who all left the room. Azalea, Ron, Hermione and Harry looked at one another bewildered about was going on and whether anyone was going to put them in the picture. Instead, Dumbledore told Sirius, still disguised as a dog, to resume his usual form. Molly and Severus were both shocked by Sirius’s sudden appearance. Ron immediately assured his mother it was all right, but Sirius and Severus regarded one another with equal loathing. Dumbledore asked them, somewhat impatiently, to put aside their differences and act for the common good but he would settle for lack of open hostility and asked them to shake hands. 

Azalea had known that the two men didn’t like each other but hadn’t appreciated the depth of their dislike. She tried to lighten the mood and said, “Come along boys, be nice.” They glanced over at her and because both wished to please her they shook hands very quickly and stepped away as if their touch burned. 

Dumbledore sighed, “That will do to be getting on with.” He told Sirius what he required him to do, Sirius was quick to accept. Azalea realised that any task would be better for Sirius than kicking his heels in the cave or at Grimmauld Place and she was grateful to Dumbledore for the distraction. Sirius said good bye to Harry and changed back into a dog, before he left he trotted over to Azalea, she stroked him tenderly and he looked affectionately at her before he ran the length of the room and was gone. 

Dumbledore turned to Snape, “Severus, you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready… if you are prepared…”

Azalea’s guts turned to ice. What was going on? She looked at Severus but he avoided her gaze and replied to Dumbledore “I am.” 

“Then good luck,” said Dumbledore and Snape glided out of the room with no further comment. 

^^Severus, what was that about? What are you going to do?^^ Azalea demanded to his mind. 

^^My duty^^ came his reply.

A few moments’ silence followed Snape’s departure before Dumbledore left the room to see that the Diggorys were being taken care of in their grief. Azalea followed swiftly afterwards desperate to see Severus before he did whatever it was he was going to do and about which she had a shrewd idea. Where was he? He could be anywhere? She didn’t have time to look in the places he may have gone. She started to head towards his office when inspiration hit her - she remembered the enchanted map of Hogwarts that she’d made with Sirius. She kept it in her chambers and immediately summoned it. She located his name moving swiftly out of the castle grounds towards the boundary with the Forbidden Forest. Azalea disapparated to appear just in front of him. He almost walked into her but stopped dead when he saw who it was. “How did you do that? Apparation isn’t permitted within the boundaries of Hogwarts” he said, recalling that she had disapparated from the maze earlier.

“Isn’t it?” she said, “I didn’t know that.” He went to step past her but she stood in front of him again, “Where are you going?” she asked.

“It is better if you don’t know,” he replied starting to move past her.

Once again she anticipated his movement and blocked his path, “Where it concerns you I need to know; I worry about you; I care about you and about what happens to you.”

“It is as I said, I’m doing my duty,” he told her gently, touched by her words but he made no further move to pass her.

Azalea was close to tears by now and said emotionally, “I spoke to Igor when Harry was missing, he was terrified.” Snape remained where he was and let her continue. She took his left arm and gently pulled up his sleeve. “Igor has a mark just like this. I didn’t realise what it was until today. I’d always assumed it was a tattoo that you’d had done, tattoos are commonplace for muggles and I never thought anything of it. Igor told me what it was and you confirmed it to Fudge earlier on. I didn’t want you to do that.” Her green eyes were swimming with tears as she looked into his dark brown ones, “You’re going to join Voldemort aren’t you?” she took a breath to compose herself, “I nearly lost Harry to Voldemort today, I don’t want to lose you too.”

“Azalea,” he said touching her cheek gently with the hand she wasn’t holding, “I can’t tell you what I’m doing; too much is at stake, people’s lives - mine, yours, even Potter’s.”

“I thought you didn’t like Harry very much,” she commented.

“I don’t,” he confirmed, “but I would never wish him dead and you know that” he finished firmly.

“Yes I do, I wasn’t suggesting you’d let any harm come to him and I’m sorry.” Azalea took both his hands in hers and continued frantically, “Don’t go, Severus, run away. We’ll go together, somewhere safe where Voldemort will never find us. That’s what Igor’s doing.”

“No!” he spat out venomously releasing both of his hands, then continued in a softer tone, “Leah, I’d like nothing better than to spend the rest of my life with you, but I want a long life with you. If we run away we’ll always be looking over our shoulder. Voldemort will hunt me down and kill me if I don’t answer his call.”

“But Igor?” she interjected.

“Is dead.” he said succinctly, “Whatever Karkaroff does he is dead. If he returns Voldemort will punish him for all the death eaters he betrayed. If he runs Voldemort will seek him out to the ends of the earth before he kills him. There is nowhere to hide from the Dark Lord’s fury.”

Azalea looked aghast, “It’s been hours since he called you. Is it too late for you already?”

“I have never betrayed the Dark Lord, so I think not,” he replied with a confidence he didn’t feel. “Azalea, please trust me in this.”

Azalea gave a wan smile and asked him in an attempt at levity, “You’re not going to do anything dangerous or stupid are you?”

He smiled back at her and replied lightly, “I can’t promise you that but I can assure you it is not my intention to die tonight and I will come back to you. You’ve given me a reason to live and what I do is for our future, I want us to have a future.”

Azalea searched his face and saw his sincerity, “Then I mustn’t delay you any longer.” She didn’t move and she looked away from his face to the school building in the background. There were lights shining from the windows and she could just make out some shadows as people moved around inside. There would be one fewer person there tonight – Cedric. His death at Voldemort’s hand was unnecessary, his short life snuffed out as if he was worth nothing. Azalea came to a decision, Severus was worth something to her and she was going to tell him. She put her hand on his chest and started to speak. As she spoke she kept her eyes trained on her hand which was resting over his heart and she could feel it beating steadily under her touch “but before you go I must tell you something,” she paused, gathering courage before declaring, “I love you.” Severus felt his heart leap at her words and he listened to her stumbling on in defence of her admission, “I’m not trying to scare you off and you don’t have to say anything but I wanted to tell you that in case you don’t come back.”

Severus lifted her head and leant down and kissed her tenderly on her soft lips; he felt her respond and he wanted the moment to last forever but he couldn’t stay; he may have already waited too long to respond to Voldemort’s call. He broke away from the kiss and, leaning his forehead against hers, said in a low voice, “I will come back and we can finish this conversation.” He took a step away and she remained where she was; she clearly wasn’t going to try to stop him. 

He walked to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds where he could disapparate. She followed him with her eyes and he received her amused thought ^^you’re a wicked man to leave that conversation unfinished.^^

He responded in the same vein ^^and you’re a wicked woman to start it when I’m in a hurry.^^ He looked across the grass separating them and caught her eye adding ^^But you are my wicked woman.^^

She smiled. ^^Yes, I am yours,^^ she affirmed.

^^And I am yours^^ he echoed. ^^Eternally^^

There was a sound like a whip cracking and he had gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This brings me to the end of the events in Goblet of Fire, but my story is not yet over and the next chapter starts with the next book – The Order of the Phoenix.


	38. So it begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape responds to Voldemort call. The school summer holiday starts.

There was a sound like a cracking whip and Severus Snape appeared in a dark and overgrown graveyard. 

Today had been the worst of days and the best of days. Voldemort was back and calling for him. Azalea had told him she loved him and they had made a pledge to each other. He need no longer fear that she would reject him but he had plenty to fear from Voldmemort. He started to clear his thoughts of Azalea and his arrangement with Dumbledore, pushing them to the back of his mind and putting in the blocks to shield his true thoughts. How fortunate it was that he had recently brushed up on his occlumency skills when teaching the technique to Azalea; he hadn’t expected to draw on them quite so soon. Once he felt in control of his thoughts he looked around him.

There was a bright moon shining and by its silver light he could make out that he was in a graveyard, one that had been neglected. The gravestones were cracked and covered in lichen. Ivy and other creeping plants had insidiously worked their way into the cracks and narrow fissures making the tombs and headstones look as if they were covered in green and brown veins. In the near distance he could see a group of people shrouded in dark cloaks, the hoods drawn over their head and he could hear the low mumble of conversation. Knowing that they would be the Death Eaters who had already responded to Voldemort’s summons, Snape straightened his posture and strode purposefully towards them. As he approached, his movement attracted their attention and the conversation hushed so that by the time he reached them there was complete silence, the Death Eaters waiting to see Voldemort’s reaction to the late arrival.

As he walked forwards Snape began to make out individuals, Voldemort stood out clearly, tall and impossibly thin, his white, scaled skin reflecting the moonlight and giving him the appearance of a pale sun-starved salamander. As Snape drew closer he could see Voldemort’s red eyes shining in the moonlight, the pupils weren’t round like a human’s but oval like a cat’s and in the moonlight they were fully dilated to allow in maximum light. Voldemort no longer had a nose that resembled anything human, instead it was flat like a snake’s with two slits for nostrils. Snape had once been fascinated and drawn to Voldemort’s exotic appearance but the passage of time and his hatred for the man now meant he was repulsed by the inhuman spectacle. None of this showed on Snape’s face or crept to the fore in his mind.

Ignoring the Death Eaters who were waiting in anticipation to see Voldemort punish this latecomer, Snape greeted Voldemort with the respect Voldemort believed he deserved from his followers. Snape bowed to Voldemort but did not fall to his knees as the others had done, “My Lord, you are returned to us. Forgive my late arrival, I have been following your orders all these years and I have much to tell you.”

“Severus,” whispered Voldemort, “I confess I was unsure whether you would heed my call, I thought you may have left me for ever.” 

“No my Lord, that I could never do,” replied Snape honestly, but not for the reasons Voldemort believed.

Voldemort turned to the other Death Eaters saying aloud, “See this man, he does not hide his face beneath hooded cloaks to answer my call. He comes in walking tall and proud to be called a Death Eater.” Snape was aware of the resentful glares from the shrouded figures clustered around Voldemort.

“My Lord,” came a soft oily voice which Snape recognised as Lucius Malfoy, “we came to your call immediately, Snape is over two hours late.”

Voldemort stepped close to Snape, “My slippery friend has a point,” he said is a quiet but carrying voice, “I would like to hear your reasons, and if I am not satisfied, you will not leave this place alive.”

As if he were talking about whether to choose tea or coffee rather than being at risk of his life, Snape said, “By your will I live or die, my Lord,”

Voldemort noted Snape’s calmness, “It is ever thus for those in my service,” he stated. “Now tell me, why were you late?”

Snape gave a short bow in Voldemort’s direction. “Before I do that, it is with deep regret that I must inform you that your loyal servant, Barty Crouch has been killed.”

“Regrettable indeed,” said Voldemort, “he was a loyal servant, but what better honour than to die in the service of his master.”

“Yes my Lord,” continued Snape, “he was loyal and proud until the end. He was captured by Dumbledore and forced to tell of the service he had done for you.” Snape omitted to include his own role in forcing Crouch to confess. “The minister of magic was fearful of Crouch and brought a dementor with him for protection, the dememtor gave Crouch the Kiss.”

“You see,” declared Voldemort, “if the Ministry of Magic is scared of one Death Eater, then they stand no chance against all of us.” He pointed a bony white finger at Snape, “and this is the only reason for your late arrival?” he asked and Snape could detect the threat underlying the apparently innocuous question.

“No, of course not. It was with your great wisdom that I took a job at Hogwarts some long time ago, so that I could be your eyes and ears about the plans of Dumbledore. All this time I have been watching, listening and waiting until I could serve you again. I have succeeded in ingratiating myself with Dumbledore so that he does not suspect my true loyalties. Now he trusts me as much as he trusts anyone. I felt your call and I wished to respond immediately.” While he had been talking Snape had been pacing around slowly and Voldemort had been matching his steps, they now stood a short distance from the Death Eaters. Snape lowered his voice so that only Voldemort could hear him. “Dumbledore believes I am his man, not yours, my lord. I waited and manipulated the situation so that Dumbledore had to order me back.”

Voldemort hissed, “He ordered you back! You are my servant, you need not take orders from him.”

“I do not take orders from him, but consider this. Dumbledore now believes that I have only returned to you because he told me to. He believes that I am no longer your servant but his. Now I will have access to information about Hogwarts that I can pass on to you, nothing he does will go unnoticed. My lord, was it not worth two hours delay to gain such an advantage? If you think not, then take my life now and I will die as loyal but mistaken Death Eater.” Snape finished talking and regarded Voldemort with a neutral expression. He could feel Voldemort trying to reach into his mind to work out whether or not he was lying. Snape knew the best way to get away with lying was to keep your lie as close to the truth as possible. 

Voldemort was seemingly swayed by Snape’s version of the truth. “I do not have so many followers left that I can kill you for this. I expect you let me know everything that Dumbledore plans – he is sure to continue the fight.”

“Yes my Lord, you are most merciful,” Snape responded humbly and feeling relieved that, for now, he had preserved his own life.

It was hours before Snape returned to Hogwarts. Voldemort had wanted to relive his glory days and plan for future glory and he had kept all the Death Eaters in the graveyard to listen to him. Snape had been grimly amused when Voldemort informed Lucius that Malfoy Manor would be his new headquarters. Malfoy had no choice but to agree. Voldemort had given Malfoy permission to leave so he could prepare his house for his visitor. Snape would like to have heard the conversation between Lucius and his wife, Narcissa, when he’d arrived home. It was only when Malfoy returned to say that his guest quarters were ready that Voldemort allowed the rest of the Death Eaters to leave.

Back in his rooms at Hogwarts, Snape was tired and stressful after his first encounter with Voldemort. He desperately wanted to be with Leah and lose himself in her sweet body but he felt soiled and dirty. He took a shower, scrubbing his body harshly, then drying himself vigorously with a towel but he still felt unclean. He didn’t want to pollute her by going to see her when he felt like this. He lay in his bed and eventually managed to drift into a short but troubled sleep.

He awoke in time for breakfast and feeling obliged to keep up the appearance of normality he went to the dining hall. Azalea was already there as soon as she saw him he heard her voice in his mind, ^^You’re back. I’ve been worried sick. Why didn’t you call when you got back?^^

^^It was late^^ he responded, ^^I didn’t want to wake you^^.

^^I wasn’t asleep. Next time, wake me.^^

They spoke no more because Dumbledore took that moment to ask the school to leave Harry in peace and not to question him about what had happened. Needless to say, speculation was rife. It was only at the leaving feast on the last day of term that Dumbledore informed them Voldemort was back, that it was him who had caused Cedric’s death and that Harry had escaped the clutches of Voldemort and managed to bring home Cedric’s body. He exhorted all the students, including those from Beauxbaton and Durnstrang that they remain united in the dark days that were coming.

\--oOo--

The school year had drawn to a close, the last students had left. Azalea and Severus were in Severus’ office sharing a bottle of wine, enjoying the quietness of the school and the luxury of knowing they would not be called for staff duty. They were discussing the final details about their respective plans for the school holidays. Azalea was to take a summer job at St Mungo’s hospital and Severus was hoping to relax at his home, spending as much time with Azalea as her working hours would allow. Azalea had two days leave before she started work at St Mungo’s and she was going with Severus to Spinners End. 

When she had told him that she would be staying with at 12 Grimmauld Place whilst she was working at St Mungo’s she had been surprised at his reaction. “You can’t live in the same house as Black,” he’d protested.

“Why ever not?” she’d said, “It’s really convenient for St Mungo’s”.

“He’s a handsome man and you’re a beautiful woman,” Severus had said awkwardly by way of explanation.

“What of it?” she’d said, before the implication of his comment had occurred to her. She stared at him at he saw the tell-tale flash in her eyes that she was becoming angry, “Are you inferring that I would be unfaithful to you?” she’d said hotly, “Because if you are then we might as well give up on this relationship right now. How dare you think that I’d be tempted by the first pretty face that comes my way!”

“No, no Azalea, I don’t think that,” he had responded hurriedly, “I’m sorry I said it. I trust you absolutely. It’s just that I’ve never been in serious relationship before and I feel insecure and, I suppose, jealous if you spend time with other men.”

“Don’t feel insecure or jealous,” she’d said softly, “Why don’t we make it public that we’re in a relationship, then everyone will know how we feel and you’ll have no need to be insecure?”

“Azalea, I’ve thought long and hard about that and I truly wish we could. The Dark Lord has no compunction against making threats to the family and friends of his followers to ensure compliance. He would see you as my weakness and I would fear for your safety. I don’t want to hand him that sort of power over me or put you at risk.”

“Am I your weakness?”

“You are my weakness and my strength. It’s knowing that you’ll be waiting for me when I return from seeing the Dark Lord that gives me the strength to carry on and stay true to my purpose. You are also my weakness in that I would do anything, and I mean anything, for you,” he’d told her.

“In that case, Severus, my staying with Sirius could act in our favour. If people think there’s an attraction between Sirius and me then it will deflect attention from you they won’t look any further,” she’d said.

His expression had hardened but he could see the logic of her words.

Now, sitting in his office with the time for her to go and stay at Grimmauld Place fast approaching, logical or not, he did not want her to go. It probably wouldn’t have mattered where she was spending the summer, he still wouldn’t have wanted her to go because she wasn’t spending it with him. He took a sip of his wine and gazed at her relaxing in the chair opposite, her eyes closed. There were still two days to go before she started work and he wanted to make the most of them. 

Snape and Azalea arrived at Spinners End accompanied by Winky. Dumbledore had readily agreed to Winky working for Azalea during the summer holidays, it would take the house elf’s mind off the fate of her former masters. As they materialised Azalea looked around her, she had memories of the area from her childhood visits to Lily’s family; hazy as her recollections were she was certain she had never been to this particular part of town. They had landed in a row of old back to back mill houses, the chimney of the old abandoned mill looming in the background, the streets were quiet, the houses seemed abandoned but Azalea noticed some movement inside a few through the grimy windows. Severus walked quickly along the cobbled streets with his arm around Azalea. The streets and houses all looked the same to Azalea but he knew the route blindfolded. Before long he stopped outside the last house in a dilapidated terrace. He took out his wand and undid the wards that were protecting the house from intruders, he unlocked the door and said to Azalea, “Welcome to my home.”

Azalea went in ahead of him and walked directly into a small living room. The room smelt musty, which didn’t surprise her considering it was unoccupied for most of the year. Bookshelves containing many leather-bound books covered most of the walls and this no doubt contributed to the musty smell. The furniture consisted of a rickety table plus a threadbare sofa and chair. Seveus opened the curtains and Azalea could see the dust motes flying in the sunlight coming through. Azalea made no comment about the room but opened a window saying they should let in some fresh air as the house had been closed up for so many weeks. Winky, however, showed no such tact. “Master Severus,” she said, “Winky will clean and tidy up this house so it is fit for my lady to be in.” 

Snape looked at the room and for the first time felt ashamed of the way he lived and the neglected appearance of his house. He could easily afford new furniture and to redecorate but it had never been of concern to him before. “Winky’s right,” he said to Azalea, “I should never have brought you here.”

“Of course you should,” she said reassuringly, “compared to my bedsit in Gimmauld Place this is a palace.”

The three of them set about dusting and cleaning and afterwards Azalea and Severus went to buy food. Normally Severus stocked up on supplies at Hogsmeade before he went home so he wouldn’t have to go into a muggle supermarket but he hadn’t done so this time. At the checkout, he realised that he didn’t have any muggle money (another reason he rarely went to the muggle shops) and he had to let Azalea pay, which she did willingly but told him he’d have to carry all the bags home as his contribution. Once outside, he put an undetectable extension charm on the shopping and compressed it into one small bag. 

“Hey, you cheated,” teased Azlaea, when she realised how light the bag was to carry. 

Uncharacteristically feeling in a playful mood he swept her up into his arms and started to carry her across the supermarket car park. “In that case I’ll carry you instead.”

Joining in with his mood Azalea made a feeble show of struggling to get free, “Put me down, I’m too heavy!” She then stopped struggling and put her arms around his neck and said coyly, “Unless you’re intending to put a charm on me too?”

He came to halt and set her on her feet, “I don’t need to,” he observed and added huskily “you’re already under my spell.”

She glanced at him in surprise, “Totally,” she agreed in soft whisper.

He looked deep into her green eyes and continued in the same husky tone, “Whatever magic you’ve put on me, I couldn’t break it even if I tried.”

“It’s an old magic called love,” she said returning his look.

“Yes.” He paused, “It’s time we finished that conversation.” He paused again then stated clearly “I love you.” He let the words run round his mind again - l love you, I love you, I love you – he liked the sound of it, he was enraptured by the look in Leah’s eyes when he said it to her. “I love you,” he repeated aloud.

“And I love you,” she confirmed. They leaned towards each other and kissed deep and long. A car sounded its horn and they remembered they were standing in the middle of car park and broke contact, a giggle bursting out of both of them. “We’re acting like a pair of teenagers” she said as they linked arms and moved away from the parking area, “we’re supposed to be sensible teachers.”

“School’s over,” he said letting go of her arm and running a few paces ahead of her. He stopped and faced her calling back “Let’s act like teenagers for the weekend. We both know how to do it, we spend enough time with them. So come on, catch me if you can.”

Azalea ran towards him, he dodged, she changed direction to catch him, he ran away again, she ran after him, as she came to close to him he darted to one side and she missed him. Laughing she put on a spurt of speed and grabbed him wrapping her arms around him, “I’ve got you now,” she exclaimed. He wriggled free and they chased each other all the way to his house, arriving breathless and happy.

The two days they spent together at Spinner’s End were filled with laughter and joy, all too soon they came to an end. Azalea and Winky were waiting and ready to leave for Gimmauld Place. Severus took Winky to one side and asked, “Can I trust you not to say anything to anybody about the close relationship between Azalea and me?”

Winky gave him an indignant look, “Winky keeps my lady’s secrets.”

“Of course you do. I’m sorry I doubted you.” Snape was surprised at himself for apologising to a house elf, something that wouldn’t have occurred to him a few weeks’ ago.

“Severus.” Azalea’s voice called to him, “Winky and I need to go now.” 

He went to her side and wrapped his arms around her, “I don’t want you go. I want these past two days to last forever.”

“So do I, but wishing won’t make it happen. We both know we have other duties and yours are far more dangerous than mine. It’s better if I’m not around to distract you.”

“I know. I know you’re right but I can still wish it can’t I?”

“I’ll have weekends off from St Mungo’s so we can see each other over the summer, but I must find time to visit Lucy and my friends. You can come too if you like,” she said.

“We’ll talk about later shall we? When we know what’s happening,” he said giving her a final kiss goodbye and then reluctantly letting her go.

Azalea held Winky’s hand and the image of Severus’ dark brown eyes looking lovingly at her burnt into her mind as the pair disapparated.


	39. Grimmauld Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea moves into Grimmauld Place and starts work at St Mungos.

Winky and Azalea popped into existence in the square at Grimmauld Place. Azalea looked around her, it hadn’t changed in the time she’d been gone; it must be close on a year by now she thought. If anything, the area looked even more rundown that it had when she lived there. The square, if you could call it that, was a patch of unkempt grass heavily indented where cars parked on it. A dark shadow stood up from the centre of the grass. As it drew closer Azalea recognised it as Snuffles. He came to stand next to them and shape shifted into Sirius. Azalea gave him a quick hug in greeting and asked, “Why is it that you’re wearing clothes? The first time I saw you shape shift you were stark naked?”

Sirius gave her a comedic leer and said, “I’ll be naked for you any time you want.”

She gave him a swift tap on the arm, “That’s not what I was asking as you well know.”

He replied in his normal voice, “It just depends what I’m wearing when I change.”

“What about werewolves?” she asked thinking of all the films she’d seen and novels she’d read on the subject, “Do they keep their clothes on when they change?”

“Come on in and you can ask one,” Sirius said leading the way towards a building which Azalea knew was number 11 and next to it was number 13. Azalea hastened after him with Winky by her side. Sirius said gave her a note with the address written on it. “Think of this.”

She did so and slowly a house appeared squeezing itself between its neighbours. “Why had that never happened before, I’ve often stood here wondering where number 12 was?” she asked.

“You’ve never had my permission to find it before, otherwise it would appear for any one with magical abilities. Now you also have to have Dumbledore’s permission – he wrote the note,” Sirius told her, taking out his wand and tapping the front door, “let’s get inside quickly.”

Azalea could hear the sound of many locks being unlatched and the door slowly opened. The two of them hastened inside and the door shut behind them with soft clunk. Once inside Azalea’s nose was assailed by the same damp smell as in her old bedsit. Sirius switched on a faint light and Azalea saw she was in a long narrow hall, with a threadbare carpet on the floor, age blackened portraits on the wall and cobwebs adorning the corners like dusty lace. At the end of the hall were a pair of long moth eaten curtains. Sirius sighed and walked up to them saying, “I suppose we might as well get this over with now,” and he roughly pulled them to one side. Behind it was a full length portrait of an old woman, her mouth contorted into a scream, her eyes wide, hands held like claws, a shrill scream came from the portrait. Azalea stepped back in shock - the sound was deafening. Sirius shouted repeatedly at the portrait, “shut up, you horrible old hag!” 

The screaming continued and in between the woman screeched, “YOU!! Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!” 

The other portraits in the hall joined in the screaming and the noise became too much for Azalea and she shouted authoritatively “SILENCE!” Immediately the noise stopped. 

For the first time the woman in the portrait looked in Azalea’s direction. “At last,” she said in a voice made hoarse by endless screaming, “at last you let someone into my house who is fit to be here.”

Azalea looked quizzically between Sirius and the portrait. “Who is this?” she asked.

“She’s my mother,” said Sirius somewhat taken aback by the portrait’s last words.

“You didn’t get your looks from your mother then,” Azalea commented drily.

The woman in the portrait straightened herself up and closing her mouth said primly, “I’ll have you know I was a fine looking woman in my youth.”

“In that case, madam,” Azalea said politely, “the artist hasn’t done you justice.”

The portrait cackled, “Oh yes he has, he shows the ravages of age and the bitterness that takes over when a mother is disappointed by her children. One child died and the other a blood traitor. But” she said looking appraisingly at Azalea, “he may have partially redeemed himself by inviting you into my home.”

Sirius took the opportunity to pull the curtains across the picture and she was quiet. “I’ve never seen her react like that before,” Sirius said in an undertone. “I wonder why she likes you? Normally she will only tolerate full bloods – and even then not all of them.”

“No idea,” said Azalea lightly, “it must be my charming personality.” She turned to call Winky and saw the house elf staring in horror at a cabinet on the wall which appeared to contain shrunken heads. Azalea went closer to look and realised the display case contained the heads of house elves. “Sirius, what is this ghoulish display about?” she asked.

“For generations, when a house elf dies, our family has kept the heads of those that have served us well,” Sirius explained, “Kreacher, my house elf, thinks it will be a great honour to have his head added to the display when he dies.”

“Winky would serve you badly and keep her head,” muttered Winky. 

Azalea chuckled and squeezed the house elf’s shoulder, “No one will ever do that to you, I promise.”

Sirius opened a door off the hallway behind which were a flight of stairs. Azalea and Winky followed him down to a cavernous kitchen in the basement. Sitting at a large oak in the centre of the room was a man aged in his mid-30s, with hair already peppered with grey, his robes although clean, were shabby and mended or darned in several places. Sirius introduced him as Remus Lupin, a friend since their school days together. 

Remus smiled and said, “You must be Azalea, Sirius has told me a lot about you. In fact, he barely stopped talking about you all the time he was staying with me.”

Azalea spoke to Sirius, “So that’s where you’ve been since the day of the third task.” Addressing Remus she said, “We sent each other owls but I never knew where he was. Now it’s his turn to return your hospitality.”

Sirius gave a sharp laugh, “Ha, I don’t think this place is very hospitable. It’s been empty for over 10 years since my mother died. Only the family’s house elf was here and he didn’t believe in cleaning, I think he’s gone mad.”

“Sirius, I think you more than anyone, could understand what it’s like to be isolated for years on end. You should show some compassion,” Azalea admonished him. “Where is he anyway? Your house elf.”

“Kreacher? He’ll be sneaking around somewhere, muttering to himself and insulting everyone in the house,” replied Sirius.

“Could you call him here, please? I’d like to introduce him to Winky, since she’ll be staying here with me. I wouldn’t want him to think she’s trying to take his place.”

“You’re as bad as Hermione, what is it with you muggle-born and house elves? He serves the house of Black and will do as I tell him,” said Sirius.

“Sirius, please just call him.”

Sirius sighed and shouted, “Kreacher, get yourself to the kitchen. Now!”

Azalea heard the kitchen door open and in walked, or rather shuffled, the oldest house elf she had seen. He had a dirty rag tied round his middle like a loincloth, he was extremely wrinkled and the hair growing from his bat like ears was white. As he came in he was staring at the floor and muttering under his breath, “Master called for Kreacher and Kreacher has come even though Master is a blood traitor who broke his mother’s heart. Mistress would be ashamed to see who visits her house; werewolves, mudbloods, traitors, common thieves….”

Sirius coldly interrupted Kreacher’s ramblings, “We have two more to add to your list, this is my friend Azalea and her house elf, Winky.”

Kreacher carried on mumbling, “More work for poor old Kreacher and now another house elf to try to take my place. Kreacher has served the Black family faithfully all his life and now Master wants to get rid of him.”

Azalea spoke, “Kreacher, no one is trying to take your place as house elf. Winky is here with me and I hope that the two of you will be able to work together.”

Kreacher slowly raised his head to look at Azalea, his reaction surprised them all. He threw himself to the ground in an act of subservience, “My lady, Kreacher didn’t know it was you. Kreacher is honoured that you come to his Mistress’s house” He flashed a nasty glance at Sirius adding, “Even if you is invited by the Master.” Winky was standing next to Azalea and Kreacher noticed her for the first time. He sprang to his feet, pointed to her and said in a horrified voice “A free elf! Master brings a disgraced elf to serve into his house.”

“Kreacher!” said Azalea sharply, “Winky works for me because she wants to and I want her to. I will not have you insulting her. To insult her is to insult me.”

Kreacher glared at Winky with dislike but agreed to Azalea request, “My lady, Kreacher will keep his insults to himself.”

Winky was still sensitive about being a free elf but she took courage from Azalea’s defence of her and Kreacher’s apparent agreement not to insult her and she asked Sirius, “Where is my lady to stay? Winky must make sure it is fit for my lady.”

“Good luck with that,” muttered Sirius under his breath but added aloud, “Kreacher, show Winky the Green Room, that should be suitable for Miss Azalea.”

The two house elves left the room and Remus remarked, “I’ve never seen Kreacher act like that before. Why did he call you “my lady”?”

“I don’t know. All the house elves call me “my lady”. I’ve given up asking them not to, because they won’t call me anything else.”

Later than evening the three humans were eating dinner which was accompanied by a bottle or two of wine, when Azalea remembered something. “Sirius, you said there was a werewolf I could ask a question? Where is it?”

Remus shot a rueful look at Sirius and lifting his glass in a mocking toast said, “At your service, my lady.”

Azalea flushed with embarrassment, “Remus, I’m sorry that was so tactless of me.”

Remus smiled, “It’s all right, I’ve been called worse things than “it” before. What did you want to ask?”

Azalea’s embarrassment deepened and she started to prevaricate, Sirius hooted with laughter. “She wants to know if you’re naked when you change back from being a werewolf.”

Now it was Remus’ turn to laugh, “No one’s ever asked me that before. I’d only be naked if I was naked when I turned, otherwise I change back into the clothes I was wearing.”

“Oh, just like you then Sirius,” Azalea commented.

Sirius remarked across the table to Remus “I think she’s got a thing about naked men.”

“Shut up, Sirius,” Azalea said good naturedly and took a large gulp of wine before changing the subject.

Azalea was due to start work at St Mungo’s the next day and she was the first to leave the table to go to bed. Bidding the men goodnight she retired to her room.

“I can see why you like her, Sirius” said Remus, “You seem almost like your old self when she’s around and you’ve laughed more in these past two hours than you have for the past two months. She’s good for you.”

“She’s too good for me. I could never deserve someone like her,” Sirius said.

“I could never deserve any one,” said Remus, “with my affliction it would be wrong for me to let someone into my life.” He raised his glass, “here’s to being a confirmed bachelor.” 

Sirius clinked glasses with Remus, “the confirmed bachelor,” he repeated and drained his glass in one large mouthful. 

The next month saw Azalea working long hours at St Mungo’s; she wanted to learn as much as she could in the time she was there. The weekends she spent visiting her muggle friends, Lucy or Severus. Grimmauld Place was now housing the Weasley family and Hermione as house guests. Visitors came and went on an almost daily basis. Azalea was aware that the house was the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix but she was peripheral to the organisation and was excluded from the meetings in the same way as Hermione and the four younger Weasley children were. 

One evening after dinner, the adults – Azalea, Sirius, Molly and Arthur – were sitting around the table talking and Sirius mentioned that Azalea was rather quiet that evening.

“Yes, I am,” she agreed, “sometimes it’s difficult to work at a hospital,” she stopped talking and no one spoke in the silence that followed, she continued, “I was on the ward for permanent spell damage today. There’s a sweet man there called Gilderoy Lockhart..”

Molly made a dismissive sound, “He’s hardly sweet; he tried to memory wipe the children a couple of years’ ago but the spell backfired.”

“Oh, I’ve heard that story, I didn’t know it was him. If there’s any justice in the world he’s more than paying for it now, he’ll probably never recover. It was another couple on the ward that made me weep. Have you ever heard of Alice and Frank Longbottom?”

“Yes,” said Molly sadly. “They were members of the Order of the Phoenix during the last Wizard War and were tortured to the point of insanity by Bellatrix Lastrange.”

“They are not insane,” responded Azalea hotly, “they have extensive brain injuries, it’s not the same thing at all.”

“No, of course not,” agreed Molly, “they are considered heroes by the Order, they gave everything for the cause.”

“They’re Neville’s parents. I expect you know that,” Azalea said. “He came in to see them with his grandmother. I know I shouldn’t have done it but they just sit there staring vacantly into the distance and barely noticing anything. It cut me to the quick to see Neville so sad and so desperate for them to recognise him.”

“What did you do, Leah?” asked Sirius.

“I could see that Alice’s injuries aren’t quite as bad as Frank’s and when Neville and his grandmother went to get some lunch, I tried to help Alice. Why I thought I could do something when the best healers in St Mungo’s hadn’t been able to, I’ll never know. But I just made things worse.”

“What happened?” Arthur asked in shock.

Azalea continued with her confession in a quiet voice, her audience listening intently. “She did react, she stood up and walked around the room, looking at everything as if she’d never seen it properly before. When Neville and his grandmother returned, Alice stared and stared at her mother-in-law, it was as if she recognised her and some connections were being made in her brain. Neville and his grandmother stood there in astonishment and Neville whispered “Mum”. Alice put her hand on his face and examined his face minutely looking between him and her husband. Tears came from Neville’s eyes and dripped down his face. Alice wiped them off with her sleeve. I could see his grandmother’s eyes fill with tears too. Alice took a sweet wrapper from her pocket and gave it to Neville. He took it as if was the most valuable thing he’d ever been given.” 

Azalea stopped telling the story and gazed at the wall, not really seeing it. “How has that made things worse, Leah?” Sirius enquired.

Azalea continued to stare at nothing and went on, “One of the senior healers was called to see the changes. He said although it was rare, sudden spontaneous improvements could occur but it was still unlikely that she’d ever get any better. He said it would have been a kindness if she’d stayed as she was, when she had no awareness of the quality of her life. All I’ve done is made her see that her life has been ruined and what she has lost.”

Molly replied kindly, “No Leah, you’ve given her the opportunity to see her son and to let him know that she loves him. That’s all any mother wants to do.”

Azalea looked at Molly as she spoke, “In future I won’t try any to heal anything unless I know I can do it.”


	40. Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus is called to Voldemort and the Dark Lord is not pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd add an extra chapter this week. Next update as usual on Sunday.

Snape carefully cut up the ingredients for the potion he was making. He enjoyed the order and detail of potion making; how everything had to be done just so, in the correct order and then the anticipation of waiting for the results and the relief of perfect success. Even if he could have made potions using Azalea’s “quicker method” he wouldn’t have done it. He was like a craftsman in his profession, the pride of traditional methods and all done by hand, his hands. He knew from his time working for potion makers Scrips and Co as a young man that potions were made on an industrial scale, how else would there be enough for the wizarding world, or for those people who had neither the time nor the aptitude to make potions? He was like an excellent home baker who would never dream of buying in cakes and bread because the homemade ones are so much better. 

As he carefully put the chopped ingredients into the cauldron and adjusted the flame so the mixture heated up slowly, he felt the familiar pain on his left arm as the Dark Mark flared into its unyielding demand for his attention. He hissed in annoyance, what did Voldemort want now? Did the man have no regard for the fact that the Death Eaters had other aspects in their lives – jobs, families, responsibilities, sleep, food – he shouldn’t expect them to drop everything on his summons? Now this potion was likely to be spoiled, it only needed another 45 minutes and it would be finished. Voldemort’s summons would almost certainly take longer than that. Snape turned the flame off from under the cauldron, he would have to go to Voldemort; having been late once he’d made sure he hadn’t been late again. Perhaps he could salvage something from the potion when he returned. He removed the lab coat he wore when making potions and went to fetch his cloak. He considered whether he had enough influence yet with Voldemort to request that Voldemort permitted his followers some discretion in responding to his call. 

He apparated to Malfoy Manor and arrived outside a pair of tall wrought iron gates which opened to him with a flick of his wand. He walked along a wide path, with tall yew hedges on either side and opening out into a wide lawn kept neatly cut with razor sharp edges. Snape saw one of the albino peacocks, which Malfoy favoured, strutting on the grass and in the distance he could hear the tinkling sound of a fountain. Malfoy Manor was a large manor house, opulently decorated inside. Its ostentatiousness had long since ceased to bother Snape, the size of a house was no indication of happiness to those who lived there. It was who you lived with that mattered and he felt some (but admittedly not a lot) of sympathy for Lucius in having Voldemort as a house guest. He was glad his small house at Spinner’s End held no attraction for the Dark Lord. Snape arrived at the front door which opened as he approached. He entered into a large hallway, with portraits of Malfoy’s ancestors hanging on the walls. The pale skin, white hair and sharp features were clearly a Malfoy family trait and one generation of Malfoys was barely distinguishable from the one that followed it. Snape crossed the thick carpet covering the hall floor and his footsteps were silenced as he walked towards the drawing room at the end of the hall where Voldemort held his meetings. He turned the bronze door handle of the rich dark wood door. In spite of its size, the door opened smoothly to reveal a large room with an ornate table at its centre piece, seated around it were the Death Eaters who had responded to Voldemort’s first call in the graveyard and every one since. Voldemort sat at the head of the table with Lucius Malfoy to his right. 

“Ah, Snape,” said Voldemort, “Your time keeping is much improved.”

Snape was instantly on his guard. Voldemort had taken to calling him Severus and his reversion to using only his last name did not bode well. “Yes my lord,” he said and started to walk towards his usual seat halfway down the left hand side of the table.

“You do not need to sit,” Voldemort said sharply and Snape stopped at once, growing more anxious.

“As you wish, my lord,” he said calmly.

Voldemort ignored Snape and spoke to the assembled Death Eaters, “My friends, you all know that it was thanks to this man” pointing a bony white finger at Snape but not looking at him “that I found out about the prophecy,” he paused and there were murmurs of agreement from those around the table. “Severus,” he said in a silky voice which made Snape’s hair stand on end, “why don’t you tell us what you heard?”

The words of the prophecy Snape had heard on that fateful day were burnt into his memory and had seared there when Lily lost her life due to his actions. He recited the prophecy, “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.”

“Is that all?” enquired Voldemort in the same silky voice.

“It is all I heard, my lord” replied Snape.

“All you heard. All you heard,” repeated Voldemort, “Why didn’t you hear more?”

“I was interrupted. The barman asked me to leave,” Snape explained, a cold chill tightened around his heart. Had there been more of the prophecy than he had overheard?

Voldemort soon confirmed his fears. “Did you know that the Ministry of Magic keeps a copy of all prophecies that are made?”

“No my lord, I wasn’t aware of that,” Snape replied but Voldemort continued as if Snape had said nothing.

“In the Department of Mysteries, the Hall of Prophecies. A place so secret that almost no-one knows of its existence. I have recently interviewed a wizard who had worked there at the time the prophecy was made.” Snape could image the nature of the interview and the fear in that wizard when he was questioned. “The wizard transcribed the prophecy for storage and remembered there was more to it than you told me.”

“What is the rest of the prophecy, my lord?” asked Snape cautiously.

“The man couldn’t remember, he was weak and died before he could answer my questions,” said Voldemort dismissively. “I did learn that the prophecy can only be removed from the hall by those who it refers to, if anyone else tries they will be killed by the magical protection around it.”

“Are you going to retrieve the prophecy, my Lord?” asked Snape.

Voldemort rounded on Snape in anger “Fool! Of course I’m not. You are.”

“Me my lord? But the prophecy is not about me, so I can’t take it from the Hall of Prophecy. I would die in the attempt.”

“Your death does not concern me. The prophecy is also about Harry Potter. You will lure him to the Hall of Prophecy and once he has it you will bring it to me.” Voldemort fixed Snape with his intense stare, his red eyes hard and violent. He spat out the next words, “You failed me by only getting part of the prophecy, you cost me 10 years of my life living like a ghost inhabiting the bodies of animals. It was only by chance that I was able to take over the body of a human, Quirrell and when he died I would have returned to my ghost like existence if not for my servant Wormtail seeking me out and helping to restore me to my former body.” Voldemort’s continued harshly, “You could have helped me when I was with Quirrell but you did not.”

“My lord,” Snape explained, “I didn’t know it was you controlling Quirrell, I saw only an unworthy wizard trying to steal the sorcerer’s stone. Had I known it was you I would have rescued you and aided you to obtain the stone.”

“Nonetheless, you have failed me and for that you must be punished.” Voldemort said slowly getting out of his chair and approaching Snape stealthily. Snape froze. Vivid childhood memories of his violent father shot to his mind, how his father forced him to back away and into the corner of the room, shaking with fear. His father would slowly remove the leather belt from around his trousers and lay into young Severus. If Severus was lucky he would be beaten with the end with the holes and his body would be covered with red welts; if he was unlucky, or his father in an angry mood, he would be whipped with the end with the metal buckle, the sharp prong would rip into his skin leaving him cut as well as bruised. Snape realised he had not managed to shield his thoughts in time and saw Voldemort smirk as Snape’s memories flooded into his mind and the Dark Lord said maliciously, “I have in mind a most fitting punishment, one you invented yourself I believe.” 

Snape remained standing where he was, every instinct telling him to run, but he knew running would not help. He was no longer a scared child, he was a man and would face this like a man. Voldemort lifted his wand and saying “Sectumsempra” he flicked his wand sharply across Snape’s chest. Snape knew what was to come. Voldemort was using Snape’s own creation against him. Snape had only used it once, when he’d first invented it in his sixth year at Hogwarts. He’d tested it out on a student who had tormented him but had been horrified by the result and had never used it again. Despite his best intentions Snape screamed in pain as a cut opened up in his robe and across his skin beneath, the blood rushing to fill the injury. Voldemort made another slashing motion with his wand and another and another, each time a new cut appeared on Snape’s body. Voldemort’s wand was acting like a long sharp knife, the cuts appearing in the pattern of his hand movements. Snape stepped backwards and turned around trying to get away but Voldemort walked steadily towards him, flick, cut, slash, cut, all the while staring impassively at Snape. The blood from the cuts had soaked into Snape’s robes and was starting to drip on the floor. 

The other Death Eaters were watching in macabre fascination, each being relieved that it was not them who was the object of the Dark Lord’s fury. Abruptly Voldemort stopped and held his wand in the position that preceded his use of the Avada Kedavra curse. Snape stopped his movements backwards and for an instant the room was a tableau. “My Lord,” Lucius’ voice rang out in the silence. “Snape won’t be able to fulfil the task you have set him if he is dead.”

Voldemort lowered his wand and continuing to look at Snape, who had just fallen in agony to his knees, said “What you really mean Lucius, is that you don’t wish to take over the task.”

“No my Lord,” blustered Lucius, “I didn’t mean that at all. I meant...”

Voldemort held up his hand and Lucius stopped speaking instantly. “You may go,” he ordered Snape who was struggling to a standing position. “But I have made an improvement to your cutting curse.” He made a swift vertical motion with his wand over the position of Snape’s heart. Snape staggered with the pain which was worse than any of the other cuts he had endured. “That one will never heal properly,” Voldemort informed Snape calmly, “as a reminder to you not to fail me again.”

Snape opened the door which led back to the hall and practically fell out of the drawing room. The door closed behind him and he crawled along the hall on his hands and knees lacking the energy to get to his feet. He left a trail of blood like snail slime behind him and he incongruously felt sorry for the house elf who would have to clear it up. 

Somehow he stood again and managed to make it out of the mansion, down the long drive and out of the gate, before he collapsed into the hedge at the side of the road. Every step had been agony, each cut had opened a little more and some of them were now bleeding heavily. Perhaps he should sit where he was until he bled to death. He could even hasten his end, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the Swiss army knife and opened up the blade, just one deep cut across his wrist should do it. Who would miss him if he died? Azalea, she was the only one. If he died her life would be better without him, she would be safe from Voldemort. If he died he would no longer be wracked with guilt over Lily’s fate and he may be with her again, a comforting thought. How would she react knowing it was him who had led Voldemort to her and that he had failed to protect her son? He shut the blade of the knife and returned the knife to his pocket, he couldn’t use Azalea’s gift to him to end his own life. Death would be the easy way out and he would have failed all those he cared about. 

He was dizzy with the loss of blood and his body was in excruciating pain, he needed help. There was only one person he trusted to help him, the only person who could help him now. He concentrated on clearing his mind to block out the pain so he could focus. ^^Azalea. I need help.^^

Her reply was instant ^^I’m coming. Where are you?^^

^^Malfoy Manor. By the main gate.^^

A couple of minutes later he heard the tell-tale popping sound of someone apparating. “Severus?” he heard her call quietly.

“Over here, by the hedge.”

She turned in the direction of his voice and ran over. She was dressed in her healer’s robes. He must have called her away from work. She saw him and her shock showed in her face. “Severus, what’s happened, whatever has happened to you? You’re covered in blood.” She reached out and moved his robes to get a better look. He had dozens of cuts all over his body, one above his heart was particularly bad, only his face was unmarked. “I’m taking you back to St Mungo’s,” she declared and took his hand so she could apparate them.

“No,” he said pulling his hand away, “I’m not going to St Mungos.”

“But Severus, these injuries look serious, it’s the best place.”

“No,” he repeated. “Voldemort did this to me. If I go to St Mungos they’ll see the sign of dark magic, they may keep me in, or arrest me. I don’t want to go to Azkaban. I need to protect Harry, I can’t do it if I’m locked away,” he said in distress.

Azalea didn’t want to make him worse than he already was. He had referred to her cousin as Harry, rather than Potter, and this persuaded her more than anything that his fear was genuine. “I’ll see what I can do. But I’ve only been working at St Mungo’s for a month, I’m barely above the first aid stage. These injuries may be beyond my abilities. First we need to go somewhere with some medical facilities. I’m going to risk taking you to Hogwarts Infirmary. It’s quite well equipped and Madam Pomfrey is away for the summer.”

“Thank you, my love,” he whispered faintly as she held his hand and apparated them straight to the Hogwarts’ infirmary.

Azalea had laid Severus on a bed in the Hogwarts’ hospital wing and removed his clothes so she could see the extent of his injuries. He had been coated with blood and she had washed his body down in order to see the extent of the damage. It was worse than she had first thought, the cuts were of varying size and depth; as if his skin had been scored like meat prior to roasting; his back looked as if he had been lashed, he was fortunate that none of his major arteries had been cut. The injury above his heart concerned her the most, it was the only one tainted with dark magic, if she was unable to remove the dark magic the cut would never heal. 

Dealing with cuts was one thing she had already learned at St Mungos. She would close the wound using a simple healing spell and then rub it with essence of dittany which was to prevent, or at least reduce, scarring. She would start with healing the untainted injuries in order to reduce the pain and make Severus more comfortable, before she tackled the tainted one. 

He was lying face down on the bed and she knelt down so that her head was level with his. “Severus, I’m going to start with the cuts to your back. There are a lot of them, it may take a while and it will hurt. You should really have an anaesthetic but I’m not qualified to administer one and I don’t know how to. Are you sure you won’t to go to St Mungos? You could have an anaesthetic there.”

“No, I’ll stay here. I know you’ll do your best. Kiss me and that will be my anaesthetic,” he said with a faint smile.

She obliged with the kiss and started work on his back. As she treated each cut she could see that it hurt, his back twitched and he would shift position, occasionally a moan would escape from him. She felt tears prick behind her eyes, she hated to hurt the person she loved, but she steadily worked on. She would close the wounds using either her wand or her hand with wandless magic. The motion of her hand had a soothing effect on Severus, as a masseur would, and after a while he slipped into a light doze. As he slept she used her hands rather than her wand where possible. When she’d finished with his back, she worked down his legs until she could reach no more without turning him over. Severus was sleeping peacefully now and she was reluctant to wake him. Azalea was tired and in need of a break. The supply of dittany was also running low. She decided to go to his office, bring back some more dittany and have something to drink.

When she returned he was still sleeping, but she had to wake him so she could continue to treat his injuries while there was still daylight. She didn’t want to turn on a light in case it attracted the attention of the few people still at Hogwarts. “Severus, I need to turn you over so I can work on the front,” she whispered and gently shook him. She was rewarded with his eyes slowly opening and gazing at her. “How are you feeling? Does your back still hurt?”

“Not really,” he said and tried to turn over, expelling a gasp of pain as he did so. He struggled to a sitting position on the bed.

“It took me longer to do your back than I expected,” Azalea said, “I want to finish before it gets dark so you can go home and rest. If I show you what to do, could you heal some of the shallower cuts that are easy for you to reach and we can speed it up?”

“Of course,” he agreed feeling a little refreshed after his doze. The thought of being able to help himself gave him a purpose. He quickly learned the healing spell but could only administer it by way of his wand, not in the wandless way that Azalea could do. Even with both of them working the light had faded before they had finished and they were forced to turn on the light above the bed. 

“I’m going to try and heal the cut over your heart now,” Azalea said. “It’s tainted by dark magic and I need to draw out the poison before I can heal the injury.” She paused and caught Severus’ eye, “I’ve never done this before, Severus. I’ve seen it done once. I can’t guarantee that it’s going to work. You may end with a wound that will never heal.”

“Then I’ll be no worse off than before,” he said matter-of-factly. “The Dark Lord intended for it never to heal as a reminder for me not to fail him again. Please try,” he asked softly.

“Of course I’ll try. It’s going to hurt by the way.”

“It hurt when it was caused, I bore that. I can bear it again.”

She was moved by his stoicism but only said “The process is a bit messy so you should look somewhere else while I’m doing it.”

“In that case I’ll look at you.”

She smiled, “O.K. but don’t talk to me because I need to concentrate and I don’t want to be distracted.”

Azalea had made a poultice which she put on the wound, she placed her hand over the poultice and started the incantation which she muttered under her breath. She could feel the curse fighting her, it was a strong one and wasn’t going to come out easily. She repeated the incantation and poured more of her will into the spell. The curse started to shift and she felt it move towards the poultice. She felt Severus flinch in real pain but she had no attention to spare for his discomfort. She said the incantation a third time and forced her will into the wound. In her mind she could see the curse extending tendrils into Severus’ flesh and refusing to let go. One by one she attacked the tendrils, destroying them and sucking them into the poultice where, once removed from the host, the curse withered away. For a fourth and final time Azalea muttered the spell and drew the last part of the curse into the poultice. She quickly removed the poultice and placed it in an enchanted bag to contain the curse while it died. 

She noticed Severus was now covered in a sheen of sweat caused by the pain of removal. She mind spoke to him ^^Sorry that was a bad one, but it’s gone now. Just let me heal this cut then we can go.^^ Concentrating once again, she put her hands on either side of the cut and pushed the torn flesh together healing it with her magic. ^^I’m afraid this one will scar. I just don’t have the skill for something this big.^^

^^I’m not vain, a scar will not matter to me. It will remind me of this day, how I must defeat Voldemort and how much I love you. Come, let us clear up and leave.^^ 

Making a series of complicated gestures with his wand Severus cleared away the mess they had made. Azalea took his hand and they disapparated away.

After they left, the door to the hospital wing opened and Dumbledore entered. He had seen a light on in the room and had come to investigate. When he had arrived he could see two people silhouetted in the light. He had drawn his wand and quietly opened the door. He saw the person sitting on the bed in profile and recognised Snape. The other person was wearing healer’s robes and had her back to him but he knew it was Miss Bennett. He took in the scene, the bed sheets were covered in blood, and blood soaked rags were discarded on the floor, there was a strong smell of dittany. Snape was sitting bare chested on the bed and Miss Bennett was concentrating on what must be an injury because Dumbledore could hear her muttering an incantation. He was no expert on the healer’s arts but he recognised the cadence as the type used in healing. The thing which struck him most was the way Snape was looking at Miss Bennett. His expression was soft and gentle as he regarded her. Whatever Azalea was healing was clearly causing him pain and once the wave of pain had passed, he regained his former expression. Dumbledore knew what he was seeing; it was the look of someone in love. He had suspected for a while that Snape was in love with Miss Bennett and now he was certain. 

A few minutes later Miss Bennett finished healing Snape. Not a word was spoken as Snape and Miss Bennett cleared away the evidence of their presence and then to Dumbledore’s immense surprise disapparated away. Dumbledore could not tell if Miss Bennett returned, or even knew about, Snape’s feelings but one thing he was sure of - he would have to check the wards which prevented apparation within Hogwarts.


	41. The Illustrated Guide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus goes home to recuperate from his injuries. Dumbledore pays him a visit.

Azalea apparated herself and Severus directly into the lounge of his house. “You’ve come straight inside,” he observed in surprise.

“Yes, you’re with me so I thought it would be OK. If I was my own, I would appear outside and knock on the door. It would be bad manners not to,” she explained.

“That’s not what I meant. I have wards on my house that are supposed to stop people apparating inside, like at Hogwarts. Although come to think of it you apparated in and out of there too,” he said.

Azalea led him to the sofa and sat him down. “Never mind about that, let’s get you settled. You’ve lost a lot of blood and may feel faint and weak for a couple of days. You’ll need to build up your strength by drinking and eating sensibly and to rest. Luckily it’s Friday today so I can stay with you tonight and tomorrow to keep an eye on you. Later, I’ll make up a tonic to help you recuperate.” She sat down next to him and held his hand, which felt colder than it should and she noticed he was starting to shiver. “I’m going to get you a blanket to keep you warm,” she told him and came back a few minutes later with a blanket which she’d taken from his bed. “Severus, you’ve redecorated your bedroom,” she said in a pleased voice, “It’s really nice.”

“I’ve got a new bed too,” he told her with a faint smile.

“Good,” she said as she tucked the blanket around him, “it can only be an improvement on the old one; that was like sleeping on a sack of turnips it was so lumpy.”

“I haven’t slept on it yet,” he confessed, “It’s going to be our bed and I wanted you to be with me the first time I used it.”

A wave of love for him swept over her by this simple way of including her in his life and she said, “In that case, I can give you my verdict tomorrow morning. First, I’ll have to go back to Grimmauld Place to get some clothes and let them know I’m away for the weekend. I’ll bring Winky back with me, she doesn’t get on with Kreacher and I don’t like leaving her there when I’m away. I won’t be long.”

The bed was indeed comfortable. When Azalea woke in the morning she could feel Severus’ weight leaning against her and feel his breath on her neck. She was relieved that he had slept soundly. She moved slightly and felt his arm wrap around her waist. “What’s the verdict on the bed?” he said in a sleepy voice.

She twisted round so that she was facing him, “The bed’s nice but it’s the company that matters more to me than the bed,” she told him and kissed him good morning.

“Even on a sack of turnips?” he asked.

“Yes, even on a sack of turnips. I love you more than turnips.”

He realised she was teasing him and he loved the fact that she was so ease with him she could joke about how she felt knowing he wouldn’t take offence, he responded to her tease, “It’s just as well, I don’t like turnips. I can say without fear of contradiction that I definitely love you more than turnips.”

Severus spent the next day resting. He had never had anyone to look after him when he was unwell before and it was wonderful that somebody cared about him enough to do so. He was certain that it would help speed up his recovery. Winky insisted on doing all the cooking and cleaning which meant that Azalea could give him her undivided attention and he revelled in it. When he’d suggested that if it wasn’t for Voldmort’s punishment he wouldn’t have had Azalea all to himself that weekend she had quoted “every cloud has a silver lining”.

However, there was no silver lining that night. Severus woke from a nightmare in a cold sweat to the sound of Azalea saying his name and her hand on his shoulder. He pushed her hand away and sat up trembling. Azalea turned on the bedside lamp which bathed the room in soft orange light. She sat up next to him and encircled him with her arms. “You were shouting, you’ve had a nightmare.” He felt his body start to calm down in the comfort of her embrace.

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, “My nightmare was about the Dark Lord,” he said in a hoarse voice.

“That’s understandable considering what he did to you,” Azalea said reasonably.

Severus moved back and looked at her in anguish, “But it wasn’t me he was torturing, it was you. In the dream I couldn’t get to you, I couldn’t save you. You were screaming for me to help you and I couldn’t move. Voldemort stared at me with his cold red eyes and said, “See what happens when you fail me, Severus? I’m never going to let her go. I shall keep her on the edge of death, in pain and with every breath she’ll know it’s your fault and she’ll hate you. You led her to this and you can’t save her. Haven’t I always said love is a weakness? That’s what you are Severus - a weak fool. How can you believe you can deceive me?” I suddenly felt all my defences fall away and he could see inside my head.”

“Severus, you are not a weak fool. You are strong and brave. You’ve already withstood his real torture of you, don’t be unmanned by a dream.”

“I only survived his torture because you healed me. If not for that I would be broken, a damaged, quivering wreck of a man, no better than Wormtail.”

“I healed you because you called to me, otherwise I would never have known you were injured. It was your actions that saved you.”

“Oh Leah, you don’t know what the Dark Lord is capable of, the atrocities he’s already committed. If he ever got you in his power, how could I live with myself knowing it was my fault? I’ve already lost one person I love to him, I’m not about to lose another.” Severus let go of Azalea and she saw the (now familiar) look in his eyes that he was pushing his emotions to the back of his mind and clearing his mind. He wore his emotionless expression and said stiffly “We must finish our relationship, never see each other again. If we meet by chance it is as acquaintances. You are free to go out with other men and forget about me.”

She was appalled, but not altogether surprised, by his suggestion. “And how will this arrangement help?” she asked formally.

“Voldemort will never know, he won’t be able to use you against me and you will be safe. In time you will find love again.”

“I see,” Azalea said thoughtfully “If we end our relationship would you stop loving me and forget about me?”

His emotions flashed back into his eyes and he replied in earnest “No never, I shall never stop loving you.”

Pushing away from him to the far side of the bed Azalea said hotly “So you think my feelings are less than yours? That I can switch them off and on like a light; that I am so fickle that I forget about you the second you leave my sight? That I am some emotionless robot who could meet you by chance and pretend I barely know you? Is that how shallow you think my love for you is?”

“No, please Leah, no. I just want you safe,” he pleaded with her and she could see tears starting to well in his eyes.

She spoke more gently, “Severus, I don’t approve of this plan. No one is safe from Voldemort and you are forgetting that I am Harry’s cousin; that alone will make me a target. You and I would still be in love and Voldemort could use that against us. All that splitting up would achieve is that we are both miserable.” Azalea reached out and touched his face and he didn’t move away, “The only person who knows about our relationship is Winky and she will never tell. House elves are beneath Voldemort’s notice and it would never occur to him to question her. As long as we are careful to keep our feelings secret, we’re as safe as we can be.”

Severus had been willing to carry out his plan but in the face of her opposition he capitulated. He invited her back into his arms and she went to him. As he held her to him he said “We’ll carry on as we are but if you ever think we need to stop seeing each other tell me at once.”

“I promise,” she said knowing it was a promise she would never have to keep. Then feeling safe in each other’s arms and secure in their love they drifted back to sleep. 

When Azalea left Sunday night Severus felt bereft by her absence but knew they had to keep up the pretence. Severus spent the night alone in his new bed, he missed her warm presence. The new bed was more comfortable than the old one which he would never sleep in again and he had moved to the spare bedroom.

Azalea had left him the tonic she had prepared to help with his recovery and Winky had prepared several meals which only needed reheating. She had also cleaned the house from top to bottom, probably due to consideration for Azalea than for him but, all the same, he could get used to having a house elf. He wasn’t up to full strength yet and Azalea had told him he needed a couple more days of rest. Consequently with no cooking or household chores to do he found himself at a loose end. He decided to use the time making some potions he’d never made before. He pulled some rarely used recipe books from the shelves in the lounge. As he did so he noticed a book shoved in behind them. He pulled it out and looked at the title “The Young Wizard’s Illustrated Guide to Useful Flora and Fauna” inside was the publication date of 1875. Memories flooded back to him. 

Ignoring the potion recipe books he took the Illustrated Guide, sat down on the sofa and started to leaf through the book. The book, as the title suggested, was a picture book of plants and animals but each illustration was a work of art. All the pictures were hand drawn and coloured in exquisite detail. The individual barbs on each vane of the birds’ feathers were clearly defined, the compound eyes of the insects reflecting the light in a mosaic of shades, the leaves of the plants in exact proportion, every plant drawn in its flower and fruit stages, the petals looking so velvety you thought if you touched them you wouldn’t feel the paper pages of the book, the fruit in its vibrant colours looking perfect and unblemished. 

Snape turned the pages over one by one. He had loved this book as a child. When his father was out of the house, young Severus would get the book and he and his mother would pore over the pages marvelling at the wonderful illustrations. His mother would tell him what parts of the plant or animal were used for, which plants were poisonous, which animals venomous, where each flower or plant could be found. His mother’s knowledge had been encyclopaedic and it was that, along with this book, which had first sparked his interest in potion making. Those were the best memories he had of his mother and he preferred to think of her that way that the down trodden woman she was when his father was around. They had always hidden the book before his father came home. His father would have enjoyed destroying anything that gave his son pleasure. Snape was amazed that the book had survived. He hadn’t thought about it since he’d started Hogwarts as a child, the school books were far more modern. He would show it to Azalea next time she came, he was certain she would like it.

Suddenly he heard someone knock on the door. He wasn’t expecting anybody. He put the book down on the sofa and went to the door. Feeling nervous after recent events he looked through the spy hole and to his surprise he saw it was Dumbledore. Wondering if anything was wrong at the school or if it was Order of the Phoenix business, Snape opened the door and invited the Headmaster in.

“Good afternoon Severus,” Dumbledore said genially as he entered the house. “I was in the area and thought I’d pay you a visit.”

“You’re most welcome,” replied Snape, who knew full well that Dumbledore rarely paid an impromptu visit, but he played along with the charade. “Would you like a cup of tea? I was just about to make one for myself.”

“Thank you, most kind,” said Dumbledore.

“Please sit down,” said Snape indicating the sofa and he went to make the tea.

When he returned Dumbledore was looking though the Illustrated Guide which Snape had left on the sofa. “I haven’t seen this book for years,” Dumbledore said conversationally, “it was a standard text when I started at Hogwarts. I must say the illustrations are superb, so much better than the modern photographs, I always think.” He flicked through the pages while Snape poured the tea. Dumbledore stopped at a particular page, “Ah, yes this was always my favourite picture, “The Magna Honey Bee. It’s a pity it’s extinct now. But look at the detail on that; each hair individually drawn, the wings so translucent but still clearly visible, the shape of the body, the pollen sacks on its leg, the look in the eyes and the wonderful colours, it as if it’s going to fly straight off the page.” Dumbledore showed the page to Snape who glanced up politely and did a double take as he studied the illustration. It was the bee that he had conjured up when he attacked Azalea as a child. He must have still had the memory of that picture in his mind when he did the spell.

“Extinct, you say,” repeated Snape to cover his reaction. 

Dumbledore didn’t seem to have noticed, but you could never tell with him. “Yes. Extinct is a bit of a euphemism, they were actually all destroyed by the wizard community in the early 1900s.”

“Why ever was that?” asked Snape, “it’s a beautiful creature and it made honey.”

“Its honey tasted no better than ordinary honey bee honey, it wasn’t valued for that,” said Dumbledore. “The value of this bee was in its venom. You will know how important bee venom is for some potions but there was a legend associated with the magna honey bee, that its venom could enhance a wizard’s power. It was common practice at one time for wizards to purposefully get stung by one to try to get more power.”

“Did it work?” asked Snape.

“There’s no documented evidence of it working. But I remember, years later, talking to a very old witch who said it would only work if the wizard was stung as a child before they developed their magic abilities. There was a risk that the magic may never come in or it could be delayed by years. She seemed to think that once older children showed signs of magic ability they quickly developed immunity to its venom and any magic enhancing effects would be reduced as they aged with no effect at all in adults. Its venom was toxic to children so it would be a brave wizard who would sting their child and turn them into a squib just the off chance of an increase in power.”

“So how did the wizards destroy them?” asked Snape feeling sick at heart at how close he’d come to killing Azalea and it was most likely only Muggle medicine that had saved her.

“The numbers of the magna honey bee were getting too great, they were quite aggressive for bees, and there had been a couple of instances of people being stung severely. The Animal Control section of the Ministry of Magic decided to cut down the numbers by introducing a bee disease. Unfortunately, the disease was too virulent and wiped out the entire species.” Dumbledore shut the book and picked up his tea. Looking at Snape over the rim of his cup he asked, “You’re looking a little pale, are you well?”

“Quite well, Professor,” replied Snape.

“Ah,” said Dumbledore, “So your trip to Hogwarts infirmary with Miss Bennett on Friday was successful then?”

“What trip with Miss Bennett?” replied Snape.

Dumbledore knew he was never going to trap Snape into admitting that he had been at Hogwarts, it was, after all one of the man’s strengths that he was good liar, so Dumbledore just told him outright that he had seen the two of them in the hospital when he’d come to investigate after noticing a light had been switched on. He finished with a question. “Why were you there?”

Snape could see there was no point in denying he was there and so sought to turn the conversation to his advantage. “The Dark Lord decided to punish me. I needed medical attention and Miss Bennett offered to help. I didn’t want to go to St Mungo’s in case I had to answer awkward questions so we came to Hogwarts.”

“Why did Voldemort want to punish you?” asked Dumbledore.

“He knows I only heard part of the prophecy and he wants to find out the rest of it,” Snape told him.

“How is he proposing to do that?” enquired Dumbledore.

“Breaking into the Hall of Prophecies and obtaining the copy of the prophecy.” Snape was not one to play all his hand and he didn’t mention Potter’s intended involvement. Instead he said, “Albus, you heard the full prophecy, if you tell me I can pass it on to the Dark Lord when the time is right and for the greatest advantage to the Order.”

“No, Severus that would not be wise. The Hall of Prophecies is well guarded, and the Order can post extra watches. This will be a distraction for Voldemort and may keep him from trying to kill Harry or to bring the war to the wizarding world at large. The longer we can keep him occupied with seeking the prophecy, the more time we have to prepare ourselves for war and to convince the Ministry of Magic that Voldemort is a real danger. Thank you Severus for this information. The Order will be meeting on Friday, please be there.”

“Yes, Albus. It’s the highlight of my week,” he said drily.

Dumbledore stood up and went to leave. As he opened the door he said over his shoulder, “Severus, next time you see Miss Bennett, please tell her that she won’t be able to apparate in and out of Hogwarts anymore.”

Snape thought, I wouldn’t bet on it, but he replied aloud, “If I see her I shall let her know.”


	42. Planning Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape baits Sirius. Azalea takes Sirius for an afternoon out.

Snape was feeling a lot better than he had when Dumbledore had visited him, whatever Azalea had put in the tonic had worked well. As Dumbledore had requested, Snape had come to the meeting for the Order of the Phoenix and was now in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. Not all of the members of the Order were there yet. Moody, Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Elphias Dodge, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore and Hestia Jones had all gone to fetch Potter from his aunt’s house. Snape was sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place with Molly & Arthur Weasley, Bill Weasley, Sirius and Mundungus for company. There were bottles of wine on the table but only Sirius was drinking it; the Weasleys and Snape having opted for tea and Mungdungus was dozing in a chair by the cooker. When Sirius refilled his own glass Snape said laconically, “Another glass? Too much wine will affect your judgement. Important decisions like, which room should I clean first? Where did I put that duster I had in my hand a minute ago? How many for dinner?”

Sirius angrily pushed back his chair and strode over to where Snape was sitting, calmly sipping his tea. “You can keep your snide comments to yourself!” he said harshly, “I am more than willing to put myself in danger.”

“Like the dangers of dealing with spiders, ghouls, charmed furniture and household vermin,” Snape said continuing to bait Sirius. 

“The only vermin here is you,” retorted Sirius.  


“Stop it you two!” snapped Molly, “We’re here for important business.” She heard noises from the floor above and said “I think I can hear the others arriving.” Sirius rushed up the stairs with the Weasleys following him and quietly opened the door to the hallway so as not to disturb Mrs Black’s portrait.

On the table were several parchments which had been brought from Ministry, one of them quite clearly a floor plan. Snape had noticed them as soon has he had arrived but had not asked what they were. Whilst the Weasleys and Black were distracted, Snape moved quickly to copy the documents, using wandless magic and then shrinking them to hide them in his pocket. It took him only seconds; when the others returned it was as if he hadn’t moved.

The returning wizards trooped down the stairs excitedly telling the Weasleys and Sirius about how they had managed to get Harry safely to Grimmauld Place. Snape commented in a bored but carrying voice, “I see you are back with Potter and it only took a mere nine wizards to bring him here. One wizard could have apparated him here with very little risk. It is the way of the Ministry of Magic, why give a job to one person when you can give it to nine people?”

The new arrivals stopped their chatter, took their seats around the table and the meeting started. Snape told them of Voldemort’s plan to obtain the copy of the prophecy about Harry and the remainder of the meeting was spent discussing how to stop him from doing so. Agreement was finally reached that members of the Order would take it turns guarding the entrance to the Hall of Prophecies, Snape and Sirius were not included in the rota.

Snape was the first to leave. He walked silently passed the portrait of Mrs Black and reached the front door. As he went to open it, he heard the locks undo from the outside, the door swung open to reveal Azalea standing on the other side. To his delight as soon as she him she smiled at him with joy. “Professor Snape,” she said in a level voice, “has the meeting finished already?”

“No, I always leave part way through,” he replied in a sardonic manner.

^^No need to be sarky with me^^ she mind thought to him.  


^^It’s for the audience^^ he responded, and moved so he no longer blocked her view up the corridor and she could see other people milling around saying their farewells.

Speaking aloud Azalea asked him “Aren’t you joining us for dinner?”

“No,” he replied, “I never stay for dinner. Potter is here and I would not be welcome.”

“Harry’s here!” she said delightedly, “I can’t wait to see him.”

A frown shadowed Snape’s face, ^^So you won’t be dining out with me tonight?^^

^^It would look odd if I didn’t join them for dinner the day Harry’s back. I’m having lunch at Lucy’s tomorrow, meet me there.^^

^^I need you for more than lunch^^ he replied in disappointment.

^^We’ll go to your house after visiting Lucy. I have to examine your body,^^ she paused fractionally before adding, ^^to check for scarring.^^

He raised his eyebrows and gave a small smile, ^^for scarring? Of course.^^ Already his skin was tingling in anticipation.

The other wizards were now moving down the corridor on their way out. Snape said brusquely, “Miss Bennett, you’re blocking the door. I need to go.” Azalea stepped backwards to the outside doorstep to allow him to leave, as he did he brushed passed her and they briefly touched hands before he walked briskly away down the street. She stayed where she was to allow the other visitors to pass her and she greeted them as they left. 

Lupin, Molly and Tonks were in the hallway, “Come on Azalea, get inside quickly, we need to lock up” said Molly. Azalea darted back inside and allowed the other three to set the bolts. The four of them returned up the corridor. Azalea could that see Harry, Hermione and the Weasley children had come downstairs but before she had a chance to speak to Harry, Tonks knocked over a troll’s foot umbrella stand and Mrs Black’s portrait began its demented screaming. Sirius appeared and yelled almost as loudly as the portrait before forcing the curtains shut over it. 

“I’d have quietened her down, Sirius,” Azalea said as she walked up the corridor.

“I needed something to shout at. Snape was really winding me up today.”

“You shouldn’t let his needling get to you. Rise above it, or give back as good as you get,” she advised him.

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re not stuck in here day after day, feeling useless,” he said forlornly.

Azalea realised he needed a change. “We haven’t been outside for a while. I’ll make some polyjuice potion and we can go on an excursion.”

Sirius regarded her gratefully, “That would be wonderful, but don’t tell Dumbledore - he wouldn’t approve. Once we’ve got over the novelty of Harry being here let’s do it.”

Dinner that evening was a lively affair with a lot of people – the Weasleys, Sirius, Tonks, Remus, Harry, Hermione, Mundungus and Azalea. 

When Azalea managed to speak to Harry she wished him a belated happy birthday. Then asked him, “Did you like the present I sent? I know it wasn’t much but I thought I’d better get something from the muggle world and I used Royal Mail rather than an owl so that Petunia wouldn’t go apoplectic.”

“You sent me a present?” asked Harry feeling touched at her consideration, although he had never received it.

“Yes, it was a CD – “Now That’s What I Call Music, 30”. Don’t tell me it never arrived?”

“Oh yes it arrived all right,” said Harry bitterly “it just never made it to me. Dudley’s been playing it non-stop for days. Thanks for the thought, Azalea.” 

“You’re welcome. Next year I’ll give you a present personally,” she assured him.

The conversation around the table moved on to Sirius wanting to let Harry know what had been going on and Molly did not wish to allow it. Azalea added her voice to the pleas of the teenagers to be told, she had been excluded as much as they had. Molly reluctantly gave way and they learned that the survival of Harry had thwarted Voldemort’s plans and alerted Dumbledore to Voldemort’s comeback. Voldemort was keeping a low profile, hence there had not been any unexplained deaths; he was trying to build up the numbers of his followers and he also intended to discredit both Dumbledore and Harry so that they would not be believed. Lupin told them that the Order knew a lot more about Voldemort’s intentions than Voldemort suspected. Azalea knew where that information had come from and felt pride on Severus’ behalf. The task that now fell to the Order was convincing people that Voldemort really was back. Dumbledore’s attempts to do so had led to him being discredited by the Ministry. Finally Sirius mentioned that Voldemort had other plans which were keeping him occupied, he needed to obtain something which could only be got by stealth. However, the adults would give no further details about the “something” and Azalea had an uneasy feeling that it was this that had led to Severus’ punishment by Voldemort.

A couple of weekends later Azalea kept her promise to Sirius and they went on an excursion to Knebworth House. Sirius had a good supply of polyjuice potion which he kept in a plastic drink’s bottle and which he sipped whenever his disguise started to slip. They had both reasoned that as the fake Moody had maintained his disguise for several months there was probably no harm in Sirius staying disguised for a single day. 

Azalea and Sirius collected her car from Stevenage and drove the few miles to the Knebworth House so that Sirius could experience a muggle day out. The House was a gothic style mansion adorned with turrets, domes and gargoyles - Victorian additions to a manor house of much older origins. Once inside, Azalea was particularly taken by the grand staircase and could imagine young ladies descending it dressed in their fine ball gowns. Five hundred years of family history were displayed throughout the house - portraits, heirlooms and furniture. “There aren’t many families who can trace their ancestors back 500 years,” Azalea commented to Sirius as they walked around the house.

“The Blacks can,” he said, “you’ve seen our family tree, permanently stuck to the wall.”

“I think you’re lucky,” she said, “I can go back as far as my maternal grandparents. I don’t even know who my father was. It would be nice to know where you’ve come from.”

“When you look at my family, it would better not to know,” he said bitterly. 

“They can’t have all been bad,” Azalea remarked, “You’re not.” They were looking at a portrait of a family group painted some two hundred years ago and she said brightly, “You can be the first in a new line of Blacks, an ancestor any one would be proud to have.”

“First I’d need to find someone special, so I could be an ancestor and start my own dynasty,” Sirius said.

Azalea replied, “Be patient, there’s someone for everyone. You’ll find her.”

Sirius stopped looking at the portrait and redirected his gaze towards Azalea, “Maybe I already have,” he said pointedly. 

Azalea chose to ignore his comment and moved away to look at the next exhibit, fiddling with her pendant as she often did when she was agitated.

Sirius did not wish to leave the subject and followed her but he noticed she was gently pulling the amulet up and down the chain and remarked, “You always wear that amulet.”

“Pendant,” she corrected, “it’s a pendant.”

“All right, you always wear that pendant.”

“Yes,” she agreed “It reminds of the person who gave it to me.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not wearing it. Whoever gave it to you must have been someone who meant a lot to you,” Sirius said.

“Yes,” she replied looking longingly into the distance, “A prince among men.”

Sirius felt the ground shift when her words sunk in, there was a man then, and not her father, she’d just said she didn’t know him. What an idiot he was. How could he have expected that someone like Azalea would not already have found that special person? Whoever he was Sirius hoped he was worthy of her.

“Is it any one I know?” he asked out of curiosity.

She looked at him with an odd expression before saying softly, “No. It’s someone you don’t know at all.”

They finished the tour of the house and went into the gardens. The house had formal gardens close by, including a walled kitchen garden, a herb garden and a sunken lawn with a reflective pool in the centre. As they wandered around they came across sculptures posing on the green lawns. They followed the signs to the maze, which had low hedges that Sirius could see over so they couldn’t get lost in the maze. The house had hundreds of acres of parkland surrounding it and in the distance they could see herds of deer grazing in secure fields out of reach of the tourists.

Like all the stately homes open to the public, Knebworth House had a café selling drinks and food to the tourists. Azalea bought them each an overpriced coffee and cake and they took the tray to a table overlooking the wide green lawn.

They had got over the awkwardness of their earlier conversation and Azalea broached a subject she had wanted to talk to him about all day. “Sirius,” she began, “You know that the new school year at Hogwarts begins in a few days?”

“Yes,” he said, hoping the time would go slowly, he was not looking forward to being in an empty house again.

“I’ve got a favour to ask you.”

“I’m listening,” he said, knowing he would almost certainly grant it to her.

“I’m not planning to go back to Hogwarts this year. St Mungos have said that they would take me on and train me to be a healer. I just wondered whether you would let me stay at Grimmauld Place. They do have accommodation for students at St Mungos, but to be honest I don’t really want to live in halls of residence again.”

“Of course you can stay,” he replied at once delighted with the idea of having her company, “I’m surprised you even think you need to ask me. You seem to be the only person able to control my mother and Kreacher. I may be the owner of 12 Grimmauld Place but you’re its mistress.”

“Thank you, Sirius, but there’s more. You’d better hear the rest of it before you agree. There is a condition to my training. All trainees are expected to have NEWTS before they start training but the healers have made an exception in my case. They’ll let me start my training provided I get three NEWTS by the end of the academic year, which would be in addition to the exams required as part of healer training.”

“You’re a hard worker and a quick study so if anyone can do it, you can,” said Sirius.

“That’s more or less what Professor Dumbledore said when I spoke to him about it,” said Azalea. “Originally, St Mungo’s wanted me to get my NEWTs first before they took me on as a trainee, so I asked the Headmaster if I could go straight into the final year when I returned in September, but he came up with the idea of doing the training and NEWTs in the same year. He also persuaded St Mungos to let me try.”

“That was considerate of him,” said Sirius, “but I still don’t see how this might change my mind about letting you stay.”

“In order to do four NEWTs I’m going to have to have private tuition. Dumbledore says I can ask the teachers at Hogwarts to help and he’ll give them time off if they’re willing to do it.”

“Providing they agree, I still don’t see a problem,” Sirius said.

“Well, the NEWTs I need to do are Transfiguration, Charms, Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts. I’m not sure yet whether the lessons will take place at Hogwarts, or here. If it’s here then it means that Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape will be visiting. I know you don’t get along very well with Professor Snape. Before I asked the teachers to help I just wanted to make sure that you’re OK with them and in particular, Snape, coming here,” Azalea finished.

“Haven’t you asked them yet?” Sirius enquired.

“No. You’re the first person to know about my plans other than Dumbledore,” she said.

Sirius felt a glow of pleasure that he was the only other person to know. Life was looking up – of course he would agree - he’d no longer be isolated in his mausoleum of a house and having Snape paying extra visits was a small price to pay, assuming Snape agreed to the extra work.

“Azalea, of course you can stay at Grimmauld Placce and if the professors want to teach you there, then they can. I’ll be glad to see Professors McGonagall and Professor Flitwick.”

“Thank you so much Sirius. When Filius comes we’ll probably go to the pub afterwards, you’ll be welcome to join us.”

“I’m looking forward to it already” he said with a smile.

“There’s one more thing,” Azalea mentioned.

“What is it?” Sirius said with a good natured sigh.

“Will you be able to help me with my studies if I get stuck?”

He laughed, “I’m a bit rusty but I’ll have a go. Now let’s finish up this cake and coffee, there’s still a dinosaur trail to look at.”

“That’s true and we’ve got to get our money’s worth haven’t we?” Azalea agreed taking a large bite from her cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nerd Alert: The Yule Ball staircase scene was filmed at Knebworth House.


	43. Lessons Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of a new term and Snape’s double agent life begins in earnest.

The start of another year at Hogwarts. Most of his life had been spent within the walls and grounds of Hogwarts but the year just gone had seen unexpected changes in his life, both good and bad. Voldemort was back and was as evil as he had always been. Snape had hoped that Voldemort would never return but he had and now Snape would have to fulfil his end of the bargain he had made years ago with Dumbledore.

Azalea had come into his life, turned it upside down and inside out. He was in love and his love was returned, in spades. This time last year he could never have imagined that the woman with light brown hair who had looked at him so directly across the dinner table would now be such an important part of his life. 

She wasn’t coming back to Hogwarts. When she had told him his disappointment knew no bounds. How could she do it? Leave him like this and stay with Black of all people. He missed her already, he had listened for her merry laugh at the first day feast but it wasn’t there. Instead, there was the ridiculous affected giggle from the Umbridge woman the Ministry had foisted on Dumbledore. Snape had listened to the words she had spoken to the assembled students and the tenor and underlying message of them filled him with foreboding.

What was Leah doing now? He knew he could just mind call her and ask but he refrained from doing so. He had to show strength. Perhaps it would be easier to maintain his pretended indifference to her without her constant presence. There would be no unexpected meetings in corridors, or seeking out her eyes across the room, no concern about her wellbeing, no thoughtlessly spoken words; all the small ways he could betray how he felt. It would be easier this way and he had the private lessons with her to look forward to. He knew Azalea’s work ethic well enough by now to know that “private lessons” was not a euphemism for anything else, he would be teaching her potions to NEWT level and nothing else in the time they had allocated for the lessons. But afterwards? Could he survive on the time spent together afterwards? He would have to. Life had been simpler for him before she came along – it was all work and time spent alone - but he was glad she had come to complicate his life. 

On the first lesson on the first day of term, his reputation as a strict teacher having proceeded him, he faced a class full of nervous first years. He gave them his usual introductory comments in his sotto voce way but this time there no smiling muggle woman to call him eloquent and evocative, just a sea of potential dunderheads. 

The second lesson of term was for fifth years, Potter included. As Snape entered the classroom the silence was instant even as he unnecessarily told them to settle down. He started the lesson by reminding them that they had their OWLs at the end of the school year and only those with the highest pass in their OWLS could expect to continue on to do the NEWTs, at that time he would be able to say goodbye to some of them. When he spoke those words he pointedly stared at Potter, who glared back at him, no doubt counting the days until that happy time. 

Snape had planned the first lesson to be the making of a particularly tricky potion, the Draught of Peace, a potion intended to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. He warned them that if not made properly then the potion could put the drinker into a deep and irreversible sleep. He did not elaborate that it would take an error of the grossest proportions for the potion to have that effect. As usual the potions made by the students were well below standard and most would end up in the bin. Only Granger and Malfoy had managed to produce acceptable results. Snape paid particular attention to criticising the faulty potion made by Potter, who had omitted an ingredient, although in reality it was no worse than the efforts of most of the other students. Telling Potter, “This mess is worthless.” Snape flourished his wand over the cauldron and said “Evanesco.” The contents of the cauldron vanished. He saw Potter’s mutinous expression as the boy returned to his seat whilst his classmates left their finished potions on Snape’s desk. No work meant no mark. Snape had no intention of marking Potter’s work with a zero, he had seen enough to know what mark it would get, undeserved low marks reflected adversely on his skill as a teacher. However, Snape’s actions reinforced the perception of his deep dislike for Potter. The boy should look on the bright side, at least he didn’t have to clean out his cauldron.

Friday came and the first week’s teaching was over. Snape had heard that Potter had already got detention from Umbridge, it just went to show that Snape was not the only teacher who could see that Potter was a disruptive and insolent student. However, Snape had other things on his mind today. Voldemort had called a meeting, the first since he had punished Snape and given him the task of using Potter to steal the copy of the prophecy from the Ministry.

Snape arrived at Malfoy Manor and walked up the fine gardens without really noticing them, he let himself into the grand hall and walked briskly into the drawing room where the meeting was being held. Voldemort was there already, not surprising since he was staying at Malfoy Manor. Snape greeted Voldemort, “Good evening, my lord.” Voldemort accepted the greeting as his due and did not respond immediately. A nervous looking Lucius Malfoy had already taken a seat next to Voldemort and Snape acknowledged him with a short nod “Lucius.”

“I trust you are well,” Voldemort said to Snape, staring at him impassively with his blood red eyes.

“Well enough, thank you,” Snape replied evasively, maintaining eye contact with Voldemort but deliberately giving in slightly to the fear that assailed him as he remembered his last meeting with Voldemort.

Voldemort detected the underlying nervousness in Snape and it pleased him. He said “the others will arrive shortly. I hope that you have made progress on the task I have given to you.” 

“Yes my lord,” replied Snape in a confident tone.

Snape sat down at his allocated place and poured out a large glass of wine, he took a sip as a show of covering his anxiety but he did not intend to drink much, he needed to keep his wits about him. One by one the Death Eaters including Macnair, Avery, Crabbe and Goyle arrived and made their obeisance to Voldemort. As Snape watched them come in he was struck by the changes time had wrought. Thirteen years had passed since Voldemort’s fall and time had not stood still for his followers. They were no longer the disaffected, disenfranchised young men they had been. Many of them now had families and responsible jobs, it was only fear that had brought them back to Voldemort’s side. Voldemort needed new, younger enthusiastic followers and those more committed to the cause.

“So, Severus Snape,” said Voldemort in his sibilant way, interrupting Snape’s thoughts, “Speak. Tell me what you have done for the task I set you.”

Snape paused for effect before beginning to talk. “The first action I took was to inform Dumbledore that you intended to steal a copy of the prophecy.”

There was uproar from the other Death Eaters. 

“Dumbledore! You told Dumbledore of the Dark Lord’s intention!”

“Are you mad?”

“Whose side are you on?”

“You betrayed the Dark Lord’s trust!”

Voldemort casually held up his hand and there was silence to allow him to speak. “Your action sounds like treason. Explain.” 

Snape slowly inclined his head in a deferential manner, “My Lord, Dumbledore believes I am his man. I must provide him with a certain amount of information. He has already noticed that you are keeping a low profile and naturally his curiosity is aroused. Dumbledore imparted the information to the Order of the Phoenix, some of whom have spies in the Ministry of Magic, as indeed you do.”

“Can’t you tell us who Dumbledore’s spies are?” demanded Avery.

Snape gave a gesture of impatience. “No. Dumbledore is the secret keeper. I cannot tell you. Those of us around this table also have our secret keeper and for the same reason, I cannot tell Dumbledore the identity of the Death Eaters.”

“Continue,” instructed Voldemort.

“As you know my Lord, the location of the Hall of Prophecies is known to few people within the Ministry and so far your spies have not been able to find it. I knew that Dumbledore has, for the moment, considerable influence in the Ministry and people will trust him above many others. One of his contacts was able to obtain some extremely valuable information which Dumbledore passed to the Order. As a member of the Order I was able to secure this information.” Snape reached into his robes, pulled out a roll of parchment and passed it across the table to Voldemort. 

Voldemort withdrew his wand and used a spell to unfurl the parchment as if he would taint himself by physically touching something obtained from Dumbledore. The document unravelled, upon looking at he realised the value of the item that Snape had obtained, it was a floor plan of the Ministry showing the location and layout of the Hall of Prophecies. Voldemort was happy with what he saw and he smiled at Snape, the type of smile that made Snape’s skin crawl but he gave no indication of his discomfort. Voldemort turned to the other Death Eaters. “You show little faith in my choice of servant to carry out my wishes, but I tell you he has done well today.” The other Death Eaters flashed looks of dislike towards Snape, the man had betrayed their plans to Dumbledore but somehow had still managed to please Voldemort. “This floor plan will aid us in planning our strategy. We now know where the Hall of Prophecies is to be found, its layout and the entrances and exits.”

“Indeed my Lord,” said Snape, taking the opportunity to give Voldemort the bad news whilst he was still in a good mood. “However, the Order are to post additional guards at the doors of the hall. Unfortunately, they did not include me in the rota. It would seem that Dumbledore’s trust of me does not extend to the entire Order,” he added contritely.

“No matter, it is best that you maintain your cover as Dumbledore’s man for a while longer. I will expect others to carry out the actual raid.” Voldemort said and Snape noticed the other Death Eaters exchange worried glances. “Severus has obtained information for us in a way which my ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, would approve. Let us consider how best to use it.”

When the meeting ended, Snape was relieved that he had survived and lived to fight another day. He knew that Voldemort would expect more from him the next time they met, he had a few weeks to think of something, but tomorrow he had a private lesson with Azalea and he returned to his office to prepare a lesson plan. 

The next day Snape arrived at Grimmauld Place for Azalea’s lesson. She was waiting for him by the front door and accompanied him up the hallway. She pulled open the curtain covering a portrait saying “Good morning Mrs Black,” as she did so. 

“Azalea, who is this person?” the portrait demanded.

“It’s Professor Snape, he’s come to teach me advanced potions,” Azalea told her.

“Humph,” Mrs Black grunted. She glared at Snape who regarded her neutrally. He had often been to the house and he was surprised she didn’t recognise him. “Is he a Slytherin?”

“Yes, Walburga, he’s currently Head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts.” Azalea informed her.

“I know which school Slytherin House is in,” Mrs Black responded tetchily, “Don’t speak to me as if I’m a muggle.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Black,” apologised Azalea, “May he go through into the house?”

“Yes, yes” she said impatiently “and cover me up again in case I see that worthless son of mine.”

Azalea pulled the curtain across and led Severus to a small study on the first floor. Once inside she said, “I’ve found that if I ask Mrs Black’s permission for my visitors to come into the house she’s less likely to rant and scream at them next time. It also helps if I say something ignorant so she can feel superior.” Azalea indicated to Severus to put the books down on the desk and asked him how his first week back at school had been.

“Much like any new school year, a load of new ignoramuses and the same old ones,” he said.

“I’m sure you’ll soon sort the wheat from the chaff,” she commented. “Severus,” she said almost as an afterthought, “there’s something I want to ask you.”

“You know you can ask me anything,” he replied.

“Hmm,” said Azalea. “I want to ask about your attitude to the students. I’ve always wondered why you are unkind to some of them?”

“I thought I was unkind to all the students,” he said in a bantering manner.

“In that case you have degrees of unkindness with Harry and Neville getting the brunt of it,” Azalea pressed on, refusing to treat the subject as a joke.

“Are you questioning the way I teach?” Snape said sharply.

“Severus, I’m not trying to argue with you or even criticise you, it just seems unfair that you pick on Harry and Neville, and to a lesser extent, Hermione. It’s unbecoming for a teacher to be so partial.”

Snape sighed and gave her an answer knowing he’d get no peace until he did. “Neville Longbottom’s parents were two of the bravest aurors there were during the war, how they stood up to Bellatrix’s torture is a testament to their strength. I look at Neville and I see nothing of that strength in him, but I’m certain he has the potential to do great and brave things, I’m trying to draw it out of him so he can be a credit to his parents. There are testing times coming with the return of the Dark Lord and Neville will be a target, I want him to be ready.”

Azalea looked at him in surprise, that hadn’t been an answer she was expecting. “And Harry?” she prompted. 

“He reminds me of James Potter,” said Snape, “and he made my life hell at school.”

“But Harry isn’t James, surely you can see that. The sins of the father should not be visited upon the children.”

“I know. I know that you’re right. I’m never going to be his best friend you know.” Snape said sardonically. 

“He doesn’t need you to be his best friend,” Azalea replied, “He’s already got those. He just needs you not to view him through the prism that was James. He needs you to look out for him, to guard him from the harm that Voldemort could do to him.” She regarded him and he said nothing so she continued, “and finally Hermione?”

“She’s just an insufferable know it all.”

Azalea glared at Snape, “It’s lucky you didn’t know me when I was her age. She’s hard working and eager to learn. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, but she doesn’t have to show off about it all the time.” By now Snape had had enough of this line of questioning and changed the subject. “The Ministry has appointed a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dolores Umbridge. Dumbledore is not pleased but is making the best of it. I really thought it was my turn to teach the Defence Against the Dark Arts this year. The students need proper instruction more than ever now that the Dark Lord has returned. It seems that Umbridge isn’t going to let them practice the defensive and offensive spells so the first time the students will use the spells is in the exam.” 

“Hogwarts doesn’t have a very good record of keeping Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, they only seem to last one year,” Azalea observed, recognising she’d got as far as she would today about the previous subject, “it’s almost as if the post is cursed. If this Umbridge woman is as bad as you say then she’ll be out next year and maybe it will your turn then. But for now you’re the potions teacher and we need to get on with my lesson. Afterwards we can have lunch or something.”

“I’ll have the something, thanks,” he said with a smile.

“Work first,” she said, “we’ve got to earn our lunch.”

They worked solidly and conscientiously for the duration of the lesson. Today they were covering theory but the next lesson involved making potions and would be held at Hogwarts where there was access to the ingredients and kit. Severus was, as always, impressed by Azalea’s diligence to work and her ability to pick up the concepts quickly. He wished all his students had her aptitude. 

“Shall we go out for lunch?” she asked when they’d finished, not wanting to upset Sirius who was lurking about somewhere in the house to avoid meeting Snape.

He agreed and they went to a muggle pub that Azalea knew from her time when she lived in a bedsit in Grimmauld Place. The pub was busy with lunchtime trade and they sat companionably eating, drinking and chatting.

“Have you seen Voldemort since that time you were injured?” she asked slightly obliquely. 

“Yesterday was the first time. He seemed satisfied with the work I’d done so far,” Snape replied, not going into specific detail. To his relief Azalea didn’t press him for more information.

“But you still need to redeem yourself?”

“Yes. But he’s so hard to please. I need to think of something.”

“Is there something which is so obvious that it’s only a matter of time before he thinks of it? You could get in first and get credit for the idea. What’s the main obstacle stopping him? Other than the Order of the Phoenix, of course,” she asked.

“That’s a good idea, I’ll think about obvious problems I’ve still got a couple of weeks to come up with something.” He noticed that Azalea had almost finished her meal and he ate the food on his plate more quickly plate before saying in a soft voice, “Let’s not talk about him anymore. Finish up your food and drink and we’ll go and do something else.”

So they did.


	44. Image

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape moves forward his plan to obtain the prophecy. There is an unexpected pregnancy.

Today had been a good day for Snape. Azalea had come to Hogwarts for the practical potions lesson. Afterwards she had gone to see Charity, whose son also worked at St Mungo’s, to chat and exchange news. Charity had invited Azalea to join the staff for dinner which pleased Snape because it meant Azalea would stay for longer and no suspicion would fall on him. At dinner she sat in her old place between Filius and Charity and her laughter and chatter improved the mood of the meal. Even McGonagall managed to smile at a joke told by Filius; clearly the lessons Azalea was taking with McGonagall were softening the transfiguration professor. The only teacher not affected by the lighter mood was Umbridge. Snape observed her glaring at Azalea but all the while with a fake smile plastered on her lips. 

Now Severus lay awake in bed in his chambers at Hogwarts, Azalea was asleep beside him; he could feel the warmth radiating from her body even though she wasn’t touching him. She was very quiet when she slept and he found himself listening for the sound her breathing to reassure himself she was still with him. She had laughingly said earlier than the ability to apparate was a great benefit in a long distance relationship. He would take her word for it, he had never had a long distance relationship before, or any serious relationship for that matter. Now the only relationship he wanted was the one in was in with Azalea and if he never had another one he would still count himself a fortunate man. 

The clouds in the night sky uncovered the moon and its silver beams flooded in through a chink in the curtains lighting up her face, relaxed and peaceful in her repose. He hoped the light wouldn’t wake her but he was too comfortable to get up and shut the curtains. The moon was so bright there must be a full moon tonight. He supposed that Lupin was out doing whatever werewolves did during a full moon. In the years since his schooldays at Hogwarts and the fall of Voldemort, he had rarely thought about Lupin and his group of friends but now he came into contact with them regularly - Lupin and Black at the meetings of the Order and Pettigrew at Death Eater meetings. Lupin was the one he had disliked the least but they would never be friends. Azalea had often told him he should let bygones be bygones but he didn’t have her forgiving nature and he would always bear a grudge against his childhood tormentors. Despite this, there were times when he wished James Potter was still alive, to look out for his own son and relieve Snape of that burden.

It wasn’t the burden of Potter that was stopping Snape sleeping tonight, it was the task set for him by Voldemort. Snape couldn’t really understand why Voldemort was so interested in hearing the full prophecy but as Dumbledore had said, at least it was keeping him occupied and giving the Order of the Phoenix time to garner support and persuade the Ministry that Voldemort really had returned. Snape was unsure how he would lure Potter to the Hall of Prophecies but before he tackled that conundrum he needed to work out how to get the Death Eaters into the hall. Voldemort’s spies at the Ministry had tried to gain access but the place was too well protected, by locks, wards and spells as well as the extra guards put there by the Order. One of Voldemort’s spies had almost blown his cover whilst attempting to get in and Snape had stopped them from trying again whilst he thought of another plan. 

The Death Eaters could force their way in but it would be a waste of the spies they had at the Ministry whose services might need to be called upon for more important matters. Much as Snape hated to admit it, the Death Eaters who sat around Voldemort’s table were all contributing to the cause in their own way according to the lives they had led and the contacts they had made since Voldemort’s fall. Stealth wasn’t the way they would get into the hall; it would have to be an open attack and what Snape needed were Death Eaters who were expendable, who had nothing to lose and everything to gain. Suddenly inspiration hit him! The answer was obvious, it was so obvious he wondered why no one had already thought of it. The Death Eaters in Azkaban. If they could escape from the prison they would return to Voldemort’s side without question. If they didn’t return to Voldemort side then he would kill them, which would be no great loss. 

Now the next problem would be how to break the prisoners from Azkaban. The first thing he needed was details and information about Azkaban, and that could only be gained by going to the place or talking to someone who had been there. There was one person he could ask – Sirius Black – but Black would rather cut out his own tongue than have a heart to heart conversation with Snape about his time in Azkaban. However, Black was close to Azalea - too close as far as Snape was concerned. Snape was sure that Azalea could get Black to open up and tell her the information he needed to know. If he asked Azalea to do that he would have to tell her why he wanted the information and he would have to tell her the truth. He couldn’t lie to her, she knew him too well and coupled with her legilimancy skill she would know straight away if he was lying. Alternatively he could get her to unknowingly obtain the information for him. Snape wasn’t above using or manipulating people for his own ends or the greater good but not Azalea, never her. He wouldn’t and couldn’t risk the happiness he found with her to serve Voldemort’s cause. There must be someone else. Again inspiration hit him - Narcissa Malfoy! She was Bellatrix Lastrange’s sister. She had a good reason to visit Azkaban and get the information he required. He had a plan and one he would present to Voldemort at the next meeting. Narcissa couldn’t refuse to help in the presence of Voldemort.

Feeling satisfied that he finally had the beginning of solution to his problems, he settled down more comfortably in bed. His movement disturbed Azalea and she mumbled something indistinctly, he said softly, “Sorry, my darling, I didn’t mean to wake you, go back to sleep.” She snuggled into his arms, as she did so a cloud covered the moon and her face was shrouded in darkness. 

He tenderly kissed her forehead and he heard her mumble “I love you Severus,” as she drifted back to sleep, his heart filled with contentment and joy, he soon joined her in sleep.

On Monday any lingering feeling of joy evaporated in an instant when he entered his fifth year class and noticed the froglike figure of Dolores Umbridge lurking in the back of the classroom. He had just deducted ten points from Gryffindor when he had separated Potter and Longbottom from fighting. It was unusual to see those two fighting, he thought they were friends, even friends out fell he supposed, although he had not bothered to find out the cause of the fight. He drew the class’s attention to Umbridge, “You will notice that we have a guest with us today.” He then pointedly ignored her whilst he carried on with his lesson in his usual way - writing instructions on the board then patrolling the classroom checking on what the students were doing. 

He heard her speaking behind his back, questioning whether the students should be learning an advanced potion like strengthening solution. He slowly turned to look at her ready with a comment about the necessity to teach to the syllabus, when she asked how long he had been a teacher at Hogwarts.

That information was easily available elsewhere but he replied “Fourteen years,” having been asked by Dumbledore not to antagonise her. 

“You applied first for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post I believe?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

“And you’ve applied regularly for the Defence Against the Dark Arts Post since then?”

“Yes,” he replied barely containing his anger at her trying to humiliate him in front of his students. This conversation was unnecessary, his applications were a matter of record.

She asked him why he had been turned down and he suggested she spoke to the Headmaster about it, which she said she would.

“I suppose this is relevant,” he asked finally, trying to put an end to this line of questioning.

“Yes,” she said, “The Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers’ – er – backgrounds….” She walked off before he could respond and he stared after her with a hatred he rarely felt for individuals. As he looked away from her retreating back he glanced at Potter with the lingering hatred still evident in his gaze. 

Potter quickly looked down at the potion he was making which had now congealed and was giving off the smell of burnt rubber. Snape knew that if he didn’t do something quickly the potion would burst into flames, so he emptied the cauldron with a wave of his wand, saying “no marks again then, Potter.” He gave Potter additional homework for good measure and because he was annoyed that Potter had been eavesdropping on his interrogation by Umbridge.

The following evening, Snape apparated just outside the boundary of Hogwarts and strode up the path towards the castle. He was returning from his meeting with Voldemort and it had gone more or less as he had anticipated. 

Voldemort had commandeered a suite of rooms at Malfoy Manor for his own use which included a small antechamber. Where Wormtail stayed at Malfoy Manor, Snape neither knew nor cared. Voldemort had met with Snape, Lucius and Wormtail in the room to discuss progress on the recovery of the prophecy. Like most of the rooms in Malfoy Manor the antechamber was tastefully decorated. The walls were painted light grey and white and the room was elegantly furnished with a pale oak table and matching chairs, two upholstered armchairs were arranged by the fire side. The windows of the room looked out over the grounds of the manor with a backdrop of the rolling Wiltshire countryside. 

Voldemort had been seated at the table when Snape had entered the antechamber, he had not been invited to sit. Lucius and Wormtail had also been standing waiting for his arrival. Voldemort had been in a foul temper and started the meeting angrily ranting at the three men that the plot to steal the prophecy was not happening quickly enough, how much longer would it take, were they just incompetent fools? Snape had allowed Voldemort to vent his anger before suggesting his plan for breaking out the imprisoned Death Eaters from Azkaban. Voldemort had been mollified by the plan and, as Snape had anticipated, Lucius was ordered to get Narcissa’s co-operation in visiting her sister.

As he approached the castle Snape slowed his pace and calmed himself. He wanted a shower to wash away the unclean feeling he always had after spending any time with Voldemort. He would use his muggle shampoo, Azalea was coming tomorrow for her practical potions lesson and he could push Voldemort to the back of his mind for a few hours.

The next day, in the potions classroom Azalea greeted him with a kiss and ran her hands through his hair, which sent shivers up his spine. “You used muggle shampoo didn’t you?” she asked. He admitted that he had. “Do you need any more? I can bring some next time I come.”

“I have enough. I don’t use it all the time, I do have an image to maintain you know,” he said in mock seriousness.

She laughed, “It’s lucky for you that I don’t love for your image then, isn’t it?”

“I’m just lucky that you love me at all,” he said in complete seriousness this time.

“And I’m lucky that you love me,” she said ending the exchange. “Now, let us two lucky people get on with brewing a potion.”

When they had finished the lesson, Azalea said she wanted to find Winky but would see Severus before she left. He returned to his office to work and wait until she had finished. 

Rather than simply calling for Winky, Azalea decided to look for her; if Winky was working Azalea did not wish to interrupt her. She went to the kitchens and let herself in. As soon as she entered the warm kitchen she was surrounded by the school’s army of house elves who were delighted to see her again. They urged her to sit and brought her tea and cakes which she ate gratefully as it had been a while since she had eaten. She didn’t see Winky among the house elves in the kitchen and eventually asked where she was. The elves stopped their chatter and slunk away saying they had work to do until only Scotty was left. “Where is she, Scotty?” Azalea asked, “Has anything happened to her?”

“Winky is in the store room. She is drinking butterbeer again, my lady,” said Scotty with a note of sadness in his voice.

“I’ll go and speak to her,” Azalea told him and apparated to the storeroom which Scotty had shown her last year. The shelves and racks were still filled with items left behind by students. She looked around but couldn’t see Winky so she softly called her name, “Winky, it’s Azalea. Are you in here?”

She heard a muffled sob coming from among a rack of school robes hanging neatly in the far corner of the room. She walked over and moved aside the robes to find Winky, sitting forlornly in a nest of fallen garments, and surrounded by several empty bottles of butterbeer. Azalea sat down on the floor next to the house elf and asked in a concerned voice, “Oh Winky, what’s wrong? I thought you were happy to come back and work here. If you’re not I’ll speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if he’ll let you leave. If you like you can come back and work for me, or go anywhere you want to.”

Winky gave a huge sob and threw herself into Azalea’s lap and clung on like a lost child. Azalea put her arms around Winky and hugged her gently, letting her cry herself out. When the sobs subsided, Azalea relaxed her hold so that she could see Winky’s face. “What’s wrong?” she repeated.

“Winky’s been bad.” 

“How have you been bad?” Azalea asked.

“Winky’s going to have a baby,” Winky said in great distress and resumed her sobbing.

Azalea was stunned. Of all the things that she had thought might be troubling Winky this one had not occurred to her. In fact, she’d never given any thought to how house elves reproduced. 

“Isn’t having a baby a good thing?” she asked before a terrible idea occurred to her and she continued. “Winky, the baby’s father did he… did he force himself on you?”

Winky looked aghast “NO! Winky love him and he love Winky. Like my lady and Master Severus,” she added slyly.

“Then why have you been bad?”

Winky looked at Azalea as if she understood nothing, which in the case of house elf relationships was largely correct, “House elves can only have babies when their masters say they can and the master chooses the mate,” she said, explaining the obvious.

Azalea was outraged at the idea of house elves being bred like cattle. “Winky, you have no master, so you can choose your own mate. The same way humans do.”

“But Winky not human and shouldn’t do things the human way. House elves is house elves.”

“You’re a very special house elf and if I say you can choose your own mate then you can choose your own mate. Will you tell me who it is?”

“No, Winky will not share her shame with him.”

“It’s no shame, Winky and it takes two to make a baby. You didn’t do this on your own. Perhaps he can help you.”

“No.” said Winky stubbornly, “Winky not saying.”

Given her own secret lover, Azalea knew she had no right to insist and did not question Winky any further about the identity of the father. “Let me help you,” Azalea offered. “I’ll ask Professor Dumbledore to let you stay with me at Grimmauld Place, I’m sure he won’t mind. Or we can find somewhere else to live if you hate it at Grimmauld Place.”

“Winky likes Grimmauld Place if my lady is there,” said Winky by way of answer.

“Then I’ll be there as often as I can.” Azalea picked up an empty butter beer bottle and showed it to Winky, “One thing, Winky, for humans it’s bad for the baby if the mother drinks beer when she’s pregnant, I expect it’s the same for house elves. You shouldn’t drink any more of these.”

“I won’t,” said Winky jumping up and in a much happier mood than when Azalea had arrived. “Now Winky needs to work and my lady has to speak to Headmaster.”

As Azalea had expected, Professor Dumbledore, was quite willing to let Winky out of her contract to work at Hogwarts once he knew the circumstances. If anything, Azalea thought, he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to deal with a pregnant house elf. Unfortunately, he knew nothing about house elf pregnancies and Azalea was on her own to research that. She realised that there was someone in Hogwarts who might already know but before she went to see her Azalea mind-spoke Severus.

^^Severus?^^

^^Yes, what’s keeping you?^^

^^Sorry, something’s come up. I need to speak to a student. I’ll be with you as soon as I can and then I’ll explain.^^

^^All right, see you soon.^^

Azalea went to the Gryffindor Common room. “Password,” demanded the portrait of the Fat Lady. Azalea didn’t know the password.

^^Severus. Do you know the password for the Gryffindor common room?^^ she asked, being aware that the Heads of Houses knew each other’s passwords in case of an emergency.

^^Yes^^ he responded.

She waited for him to tell her than realised he was being literal today. ^^Please would you tell me what the password for the Gryffindor Common room is?^^ she asked patiently.

^^Why didn’t you say so earlier?^^ he responded and she could detect the amusement in his response. ^^It’s mimbulus mimbletonia.^^

^^Thank you. When I get back I’m going to teach you not to be so literal with me.^^

^^I’m looking forward to it,^^ he replied with a mental image of a leer and she laughed in spite of her impatience with him.

She told the Fat Lady the password and entered the common room. The room fell silent when she went in, a guilty sort of silence. Azalea considered using legilimacy to try to find what they were hiding but decided against it, she wasn’t really interested in the secrets of teenagers. “Hermione, could I have a word please?” she asked. Hermione rose from the chair she had been sitting in and went with Azalea to the girls’ bedrooms. 

After checking they were alone Azalea said, “Hermione, in all your research about house elves, what have you come across about house elf pregnancy?”

Hermione immediately jumped to the correct conclusion, “Is one of the house elves pregnant. It’s Winky isn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Azalea “but please keep this between us. I’ve agreed with Professor Dumbledore that she can come and live with me and Sirius at Grimmauld Place, but I have no idea what to expect.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Hermione promised, “but it’s not the sort of thing that can be kept secret for long.”

“I know, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“There isn’t much about the house elf life cycle,” Hermione said, “I think that wizards just aren’t interested. It would seem that the house elves have to take a mate decided on by their masters, once the baby is born it then goes to live with either the mother or father’s family depending on which household needs it most. It’s barbaric, treating them like stud horses or brood mares.”

“I agree, but in Winky’s case she chose her own mate, although she won’t tell me who it is. The baby will be welcome in my house. Do you know how long the gestation period is and any birth practices?”

“Gestation is about 8 months. I’ve found nothing about birth practices. Perhaps you could ask at St Mungos.”

“I could try but they don’t seem to do much for house elves.” Azalea noticed that Hermione kept glancing anxiously at her watch and looking at the door, she clearly had somewhere else to go so Azalea thanked her for her help and left the common room. 

Azalea stopped off at the kitchen to let Winky know that she could return to Grimmauld Place whenever she wanted to and Winky said she’d start next week. Upon leaving the kitchen Azalea made her way back to Severus’ office all the time wondering what lesson she should use to teach him not to be so literal!


	45. Reconnaissance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape undertakes the preparatory work to put his escape plan for the prisoners at Azkaban into action.

Snape, accompanied by Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, arrived at Azkaban. Lucius had needed no persuasion to come with his wife to this bleak place; she had asked and he had come with her, whatever else Snape thought about him, the man obviously loved Narcissa, perhaps he did have one redeeming feature. 

The prison was built on a tiny island located far out in the North Sea. The prison building was a stark tower pointing into the grey sky like an accusatory finger. A fierce and bitter wind cut like a knife through the clothing the three wizards wore, as if icy blades were shredding all the protection they offered. They could see the dark shadows of the dementors circling the tower in the manner of vultures around a dying animal, unconcerned by the wind whistling across the stormy looking seas. Even from this distance Snape felt the effect of the dementors and his mood started to darken. 

The wizards walked swiftly to the only door they could see in the otherwise featureless wall of the tower. As they got closer to the tower, a single dementor ceased its circling of the building and glided towards the new arrivals. A feeling of despair crept over Snape, he saw Narcissa stumble and knew she was affected too, Lucius took her by the arm and ran with her to the door. Snape increased his pace to match theirs and they threw themselves at the door which open smoothly enabling them to rush inside, the door slammed behind them just as the dementor swept past. Narcissa clung to her husband’s arm and they looked around, they were in an enclosed entrance lobby, the door they had just entered closed securely behind. In front of them was another door, partially glazed, and through it they could see an open plan reception area with couches and easy chairs arranged around low tables. A security guard sat at a reception desk, he had seen them enter the lobby and he pushed a button on the desk causing the inner door to open allowing them to walk into the building. 

They approached the reception desk where the security guard was waiting expectantly. “First time visitors eh?” he said. “Next time apparate closer to the entrance door, you’ll be able to get in before them things notice you. Right, who’ve you come to see?”

“Bellatrix Lastrange,” answered Malfoy.

“Relationship to the prisoner?” 

“She’s my sister,” responded Narcissa.

“She’s been here for twelve years and you’ve never visited before, why now?” asked the guard.

“Family matters,” said Malfoy imperiously, “and none of your business.”

“O.K, O.K, just interested. We don’t get many new visitors these days.”

Curiosity got the better of Narcissa and she said to the guard, “I didn’t know there were human guards here – I thought it was just those things,” and she waved vaguely in the direction of outside the building.

The guard snorted, “and who do you think has to make sure the prisoners get fed, clothed, kept occupied, sort out arguments, supervise them when they’re not in the cells? Them things outside might stop the prisoners escaping but that’s all they do. We have to keep the prisoners alive. Although,” he added as an afterthought, “there is a lot of death among the prisoners.”

“Why aren’t you guards affected by the dementors?” asked Narcissa.

“This area is protected from the dementors by some sort of shield set up by the Ministry of Magic wizards. The spell for the shield is complicated magic and a closely guarded secret in the ministry. The staff here are all squibs so that we can’t be bribed to extend or take away the protection to the cells. There are other protections, of course,” the guard continued conversationally, “Apparation is prevented and no magic can be performed within the building. Obviously we confiscate the wands of the prisoners when they arrive. Oh yes, I’d better tell you that you’ll have to hand in your wands when you visit your sister.” He saw a look of horror on the faces of the Malfoys. Wizards, he thought, they can’t bear to be without their wands, they’d rather be naked than wandless. “Your wand will be safe with me. Look, they go in this locked drawer and I’ll give you a receipt.”

Narcissa and Lucius handed over their wands and got a receipt for them. Snape said there was no need for him to visit Bellatrix because he hardly knew her and he would wait for the Malfoys at reception. That was part of the plan, whilst the Malfoys were going to see what they could of the layout of the prison, Snape would find out as much as he could from the guard on reception. 

A second guard showed the Malfoys to Bellatrix’s cell leaving Snape with the reception guard. Snape, who was not particularly confident in casual conversation, had hoped to use his legilimancy skills to obtain information from the guard. However, he could not use that particular skill because the use of magic was blocked in the entire prison. Luckily the guard was a garrulous man who imparted more information than he knew to the few prompts that Snape gave during the course of the conversation. Snape discovered the general layout of the building, visiting hours, when the Ministry wizards were likely to inspect, the shift rotas for the guards, the numbers of staff at the building and, interestingly, that the dementors seemed to be least active in the early evening just after darkness fell.

The door leading to the prison opened and the Malfoys returned, both looking paler than ever, which given Lucius’ naturally pale complexion was quite an achievement. “We need to go, we must go now, this place it.. it drains you so,” said a subdued Lucius.

Narcissa looked extremely upset, “How can she bear it? It’s awful, we’ve been here less than an hour and I feel as if all hope is gone.”

“They get used to it,” said the guard matter of factly, “some more than others. I’ve noticed that those who have no remorse for what they’ve done cope the best.” He held out his hand and said to them “give me the receipts and I’ll get your wands for you. Then you can leave. I suggest you disapparate just a few yards away from the front door of the building.”

\--oOo—

Over the next week or so Snape gave a lot of thought as to how the escape would be carried out. The first problem the rescuers would encounter was the squib guards at the prison. If magic had worked within the prison then a simple stunning spell would have been sufficient. As magic didn’t work he would have to think like a muggle. Luckily he had learnt more about how muggles lived and acted in the past few months than he had for the whole of his life. 

One thing he had noticed about muggles, they loved reading or watching fiction. He had seen many films with Azalea, why she wanted to spend time watching stories that weren’t real was a puzzle to him, he’d rather read a fact based book, but he liked her relaxing against him as she watched and sometimes he would find himself drawn into the story. If these stories were anything to go by, muggles had many ways to incapacitate one another without the need for magic. In the films he had watched where a raid or rescue was part of the plot, the muggles would deal with the guards in ways such as shooting them, hitting them on the head, luring them away, using a knock out gas, a tranquiliser dart or an anaesthetic soaked rag. He considered whether any of these methods might work against the squib guards. 

Snape did not want anyone to be killed or seriously injured during the rescue so he ruled out the first two methods. It would be difficult to lure the guards away from the relative safety of the staff areas which were shielded from the effect of the dementors. A gas could work, but it was indiscriminate and might adversely affect the rescuers and the people they had come to rescue. Whilst an anaesthetic soaked rag would only knock out the person being drugged, it required close contact and the guards would fight against being held down. The Death Eaters undertaking the raid would be no match for the guards he had seen. That left the tranquiliser darts, it was specific to the person being drugged and could be administered from a distance. The problem would be obtaining them. He would have to steal them from muggles, he was already a criminal in the wizard world for his involvement with the Death Eaters, adding theft from muggles would make no difference. He needed to get them soon so that the Death Eaters could practice shooting the guns, accuracy was essential.

The second problem he could foresee with the rescue plan was how to deal with the dementors. He intended for the rescuers to approach the prison stealthily so did not want to risk apparating close to the entrance door, where they could easily be seen by the guards. This would mean that they would have to arrive some distance from the building which ran the risk of the rescuers being found by the dementors. Snape remember the feeling of despair he had experienced in the brief run up to the door. He needed to find a way to make the rescuers invisible, or at least of no interest, to the dementors. 

No matter how much knowledge Snape had about a subject he never assumed he knew everything. When faced with a problem he couldn’t resolve he would read around the subject to see if there was anything more to be learned. He adopted that approach now and went to the school library to read about dementors. As a teacher he had access to the restricted section and so started his research there. He removed several books from the shelves but decided not to check them out in case his sudden interest in dementors aroused suspicion. Instead he sat in a corner of the library with his back to the other people in the room. After a couple of hours reading he hadn’t learned anything he didn’t already know about dementors. The book he had open was a very basic one, not really worth putting in the restricted section, but it posed the question, “Why don’t dementors attack animals?” and the simple answer below it was “because animals have no souls.” Talk about stating the obvious, Snape thought, shutting the book irritably. Suddenly connections started to form in his mind. It wasn’t possible to train an animal to rescue the prisoners but it might be possible to find a human with no soul, after all Voldemort had reputedly lost his soul. Not that Snape was going to suggest that the Dark Lord dirty his hands by carrying out the rescue. 

He thought back to the time when Azalea was in a coma and Snape had looked in every book he owned trying to work out a way to magically capture musical backing tracks. He had scanned through the index of each book looking for a solution, now one of the entries came back to him which might solve the “how to be invisible to dementors” problem. He quickly returned the library books to the restricted section and left the library which had emptied out considerably in the time he had been there. The librarian, Madam Pince, bade him goodbye as he left and got a grunt in response. It was unusual to see him in the library and she’d noticed that the students hadn’t stayed long when they’d seen his greasy head of hair poring over the books in the corner. There had been some days recently, she mused, when his hair wasn’t greasy at all and it shone sleek and smooth, like ravens’ wings.

Snape decided to go back to his house straight away to consult the book he had remembered. He walked briskly to the boundaries of Hogwarts, partly because it was cold and partly because he was eager to see if his memory had served him correctly. Once at the boundary he apparated to his house. He undid the wards and let himself in. The house was untouched since his last visit and he noticed one of Azalea’s jumpers on the floor, he picked it up and lay it on the sofa, she would be wondering where she had left it, he must tell her where it was next time they spoke. 

He turned on the lights and lifted up the loose floorboard under which he kept his banned books about the Dark Arts. It was in one of these that he seen the entry he was looking for. It didn’t take him long to find it, and he opened the book at the relevant page. “A potion to freeze the soul.” The introductory section described how this potion could be used when dark deeds were required and the conscience could not interfere. The use of the potion had been outlawed for many years because the user became uncontrollable until the potion wore off, death and destruction often followed the dark deed. The commentary made no mention of whether the potion would blind the dementors to the user’s presence but Snape thought it was worth experimenting with. He even had a guinea pig in mind. He would have the added precaution of an imperius curse before he administered the potion, so he could keep his guinea pig under control. He looked down the list of ingredients, luckily none of them were banned but one, in particular, was extremely rare and expensive. He read how to make the potion, it was complex and time consuming, taking close on a month before it was ready. Given the cost of the ingredients he would make single a dose to try out before he made it in bulk, if it worked he would get someone else to pay for it.

Over the next few days he accumulated most of the ingredients he needed for the potion, some he got from the school supplies, some from his own supplies and the remainder, bar one, from Dervish and Banges at Hogsmeade. The only remaining ingredient was the rare and expensive one and the only place he knew which might have it was his old employer Scrips and Co. 

Over the years he had been into Scrips’s shop many times and kept up an acquaintance with Mr Scrips, with whom he was first name terms. Snape entered the shop and the doorbell jangled, unchanged from the time he had worked there. A wave of nostalgia swept over him as he went in and he was carried back to the days he had worked there days which, by and large, had been some of the best days of his life. He had been genuinely sorry when he was forced to leave to take up a teaching post at Hogwarts. Mr Scrips was at the counter today, and like the doorbell, seemed unchanged by the passage of time. He greeted Snape warmly when he saw who had come into the shop, “Severus, it’s been too long since you last came here. How are you keeping?”

“I’m well thank you, Cato,” replied Snape cordially.

“I suppose you are still working at Hogwarts?”

“Yes I am.”

“Severus, it’s my dream that one day you will walk in here and ask for your old job back. You could have it in an instant,” Mr Scrips said in apparent sincerity.

Snape smiled, they had a similar conversation on a regular basis. “You’d have to promote me, I’m a little old to be the junior assistant these days.”

“I’m sure we could come to a suitable arrangement, just give me the word and I’ll find a role for you,” Mr Scrips responded.

“It won’t be this year but I’ll bear your offer in mind if I ever find myself unemployed,” Snape replied, wishing he could take up the offer and leave his life at Hogwarts well and truly behind him.

“Well, Severus, what can I get you? I assume you haven’t come in just to pass the day with an old man.”

“You’re hardly an old man, Cato, but you are right I haven’t come in only to see you. I need some fairy wings.”

Mr Scrips raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Fairy wings? You’re developing expensive tastes, no wonder you’d need a promotion if you came to work for me. They must be paying you too much at Hogwarts.”

Snape joined in the banter and said lightly, “Not at all, they deduct a huge chunk for board and lodging. And,” he added somewhat less lightly, “I’m on call 24 hours a day to see to the needs of my students.”

Mr Scrips regarded Snape astutely detecting the underlying dissatisfaction with his life choices and wondered, not for the first time, what had made his most gifted assistant give up a rewarding career in order to become a teacher. He pushed the thought to one side and carried on with the transaction. “I do have some fairy wings, they’re locked in the safe. How many do you want?”

“Just two please.”

Mr Scrips crouched behind the counter and Snape could hear the sound of a combination lock being turned as Mr Scrips undid the safe. Snape recalled that Scrips had relied on muggle techniques for the first level of security for the expensive items, once opened there were various wards on the individual items to deter magical thieves. Mr Scrips took out the fairy wings and relocked the safe. He stood up behind the counter and asked Snape, “Well, Severus have you finally found yourself a woman to settle down with?” The remark from his old friend took Snape unawares, he was unused to being asked about his private life and he flushed at the question. Mr Scrips continued with glee “Ah – you have! I knew it. It’s about time too. I hope she was worth waiting for.”

“No, you are mistaken,” said Snape in a fluster, “You know there’s only ever been one woman for me.”

“The Evans girl,” replied Mr Scrips, “Severus, you can’t mourn for ever. No one would blame you for finding somebody else.”

Snape regained his composure but Mr Scrips knew he had hit upon the truth, Severus had finally fallen in love again. Why other reason would he have for spending a fortune on a pair of fairy wings? What else were they used for except as a token of undying love when bound with a drop of the lovers’ blood and set in matching moonstones under the light of a new moon. So Snape was a romantic at heart. Mr Scrips was only sorry that Severus couldn’t be honest with him, unless the woman was married to someone else. He hoped that wasn’t the case, Severus had already experienced the heartache of loving a married woman and he’d be a fool to do it again. Whatever the reason Severus’ secret would be safe with him.

Snape paid for the fairy wings and exchanged a few more pleasantries with Mr Scrips about how business was and the latest news and gossip in the Daily Prophet before he left the shop and returned to Hogwarts.


	46. Frozen Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best laid plans don’t always go as expected, Severus tries to make the best of a bad situation.

Azalea and Sirius were in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place eating an early evening meal because Azalea was spending the night with Severus. She had told Sirius that a muggle friend of hers was getting married soon (which was true) and she was having a girls’ get together to discuss all things wedding (which wasn’t true, or if it was Azalea hadn’t been invited). Azalea hated lying to Sirius, he had been nothing but good to her since she had moved in. Recently he had been welcoming to Winky and had even made some effort to find out something about house elf pregnancies. Mostly Azalea wished she didn’t have to hide her relationship with Severus. She wanted to announce to the world that she was in love with a fine man, who loved her back. She wasn’t sure whether Severus’s concern that such an announcement would compromise their safety had any basis in reality but she didn’t want to test it out. One thing she was certain of was that Sirius would not understand how she could love someone he disliked with an intensity bordering on outright hatred. Sirius’ state of mind following his incarceration at Azkaban and his continued confinement at Grimmauld Place was fragile and she didn’t want to tip him over the edge. She had moved to Grimmuald Place with the intention of helping him, not hurting him.

“Have you heard from Harry, recently?” Azalea asked.

“Not directly, since that Umbridge woman almost caught me talking in the fire. She’s such a useless teacher that Harry and his friends have formed a secret society to practice Defence Against the Dark Arts,” he told her excitedly. “Molly was furious and told her children not to be part of it.”

Azalea smiled, “So now I suppose every one of them is a member?”

“Yes, but don’t tell Molly” he cautioned “and Umbridge has banned Harry and the Weasley twins from being in the Gryfindor Quidditch team.”

“Surely she can’t do that? What does Dumbledore have to say about it?” 

“She persuaded the Ministry of Magic to give her authority to override decisions made by the teaching staff. I think Dumbledore’s just going along with it for now.”

“I suppose there’s sense in that” mused Azalea, “He’ll have to choose his battles with her and it will need to be over something more important that school level Quidditch. How do you know all this anyway?”

“Fred sent an owl to Arthur and Molly to tell them about the Quidditch ban and that Dumbledore hadn’t stopped Umbridge. In the note he mentioned they’d have to find other things to do to occupy their time and that Ginny and Ron were in agreement. Molly wanted to believe that he was referring to school work. I think Arthur knew what they meant.” Sirius replied.

Once she had finished eating, Azalea noticed Sirius was looking forlorn and the conversation about Harry had reminded him of his isolation from others. She made a suggestion, “I’ve got a lesson with Filius tomorrow,” she said, “afterwards the three of us can go out to the pub if you’d like? Then on Sunday, you and I can spend the day doing something. Preferably something indoors because the weather forecast is not looking good.” If it meant she spent less time with Severus this weekend then so be it. Sirius needed her more at the moment than Severus did.

She was rewarded by a charming smile from Sirius, “I’d love to, I’m going mad in here” he said, “I don’t care what the weather is like but I’d rather do something outside than inside. You muggles are obsessed with the weather, I’ll keep you warm if you feel chilly.”

“O.K,” she said, “something outside it is then. Maybe we could go to warmer climes, we don’t have to stay in England. We could take Buckbeak too, he needs some space. Give it some thought while I’m away and I’ll see you tomorrow.” She went up to her room and packed a small overnight bag and made sure that Winky was comfortable. If Azalea was meant to be going to the muggle world she couldn’t take Winky with her.

Azalea left 12 Grimmauld Place and apparated just outside the front door of Severus’ house in Spinners End. She could, of course have gone directly from her room in Grimmauld Place to the lounge of Severus’s house but she didn’t. Both places were supposed to be warded against apparation and it was bad manners to walk straight into someone’s house even if they did know you were coming. At Severus’s house she knocked on the door but there was no reply. He was expecting her so she knew he couldn’t be far away. 

^^Severus,^^ she thought to him, ^^I’m outside your house, where are you?^^

^^I’m in the shower, you can come in. I’ll be down in a few minutes,^^ came his reply.

She let herself in put her bag down on the floor. She could hear the shower running and knew from experience that Severus liked to take long showers. She considered going to join him in the shower but decided not to. He probably just needed to get clean, if he’d wanted to share a shower he would have waited. In any case, his kept his house colder than she liked; she’d just want to get into bed to keep warm once she got out of the shower and it was too early to go to bed. In anticipation of her visit, he had already lit the fire in the lounge and she crossed the small room to stand by it. As she stood with her back to the fire warming up she noticed there were two bottles of elf wine on the side board. She recognised the make by the earthenware bottles traditionally used, but these days only the better elf wines were in such bottles. Next to the bottles were two matching earthenware goblets. A glass of wine would go down well and would warm her up on the inside while the fire did its job on the outside. 

At the sideboard she noticed that one of the bottles of wine had not yet been opened, she lifted up the second bottle and could tell by the weight that there was barely a glassful left in it, she might as well finish up that bottle before she opened the full one. A book was lying on the sideboard and she looked at the title, The Young Wizard’s Illustrated Guide to Useful Flora and Fauna, with the bottle in one hand she opened the book with the other and the first page she saw was a colourful illustration of the common stinging nettle. Initially she thought it was a photograph but on looking more closely she could see it was hand drawn and painted in incredible detail. She picked up a goblet and poured the wine into it paying more attention to the book than the wine. She carried both the book and the wine over to a chair by the fire, so she could wait comfortably for Severus, drinking and looking through the book. She took a large mouthful of the wine as she turned over the next page of the book. The wine didn’t taste quite as she remembered it, but perhaps it was past its best, it could have been open for a while, Severus wasn’t much of a drinker. The new bottle would probably be better. Still, there was no point in wasting this wine so she drained the goblet while turning over the pages of the book marvelling at the detail and quality of the illustrations. She heard the shower being switched off and knew Severus would be down shortly. She turned over the next page but it started to go out of focus, the colours bleeding into one and the lines becoming undefined. Her abdomen contorted in agony and a dagger of pain stabbed through her head. A long moan escaped from her lips and she clutched her stomach trying to hold down a feeling of nausea that swept through her, she didn’t want to vomit all over the carpet. She staggered towards the door leading upstairs to the bathroom but it opened before she got there and she collapsed onto Severus as a blackness overtook her.

Severus had heard her cry out and rushed down the stairs immediately dressed only his trousers, shoes and undershirt. He caught her as she fell and carried her over to the sofa, “Leah, what’s wrong, what’s happened?” he asked anxiously as he put her down on the sofa but she made no response and lay unmoving. He felt for her pulse – it was beating strongly. He looked around frantically for some clue about what had happened and saw the goblet on the table. He rushed over to the sideboard and picked up the open bottle of elf wine which was now empty. He felt the blood drain from his face and fear contorted his stomach into a hard knot. That wine hadn’t been meant for her. 

He had spent the past three weeks carefully making the frozen soul potion which he had finished earlier that day. He had been showering when she arrived to wash away the smell of the potion. His plan had been to invite Wormtail over, ostensibly to discuss the escape from Azkaban. He had put the frozen soul potion into the almost empty bottle of elf wine and was going to give it to Wormtaill, whilst taking a drink from the new bottle himself. Once Wormtail had taken the potion he would have put an imperius curse on him to control him. Wormtail was his guinea pig – not Azalea.

Now everything had gone wrong and he was running out of time. It would take another three weeks to make a new batch and he’d have to buy more fairy wings. They were so rarely used in potion making Mr Scrips would be suspicious. However, Mr Scrips’ reaction would be nothing compared to the rage of Voldemort; already the Dark Lord constantly asked him how the plan was progressing and Snape had promised some results this weekend. If he failed he could be facing death, not punishment. There was a time when he would have welcomed death to release him from his guilt and torment, but not now. He need to protect Potter more than ever and how could he leave Azalea? He loved her more than life itself but his death now would not help her in any way. He was in an agony of indecision. 

He heard her make a sound and knelt by the sofa. The instructions for the potion had made very little mention of the effects once ingested and he no idea how she would react but she was starting to come round. She opened her eyes and he could see her focussing on her surroundings and on him. She sat up slowly and looked at him with recognition but nothing else. “Professor Snape,” she said with a sibilance that reminded him uncomfortably of Voldemort. He made an instant choice, he summoned his wand, grabbed hold of her arm and disapparated them both out of the house.

They appeared on the island of Azkaban. He had bought them to the back of the building, away from the entrance door where they might be seen by the guards. Snape arrived in the kneeling position he was in when he had disapparated. Without the support of the sofa Azalea landed on the hard ground, which in other circumstances would have sent them both into a fit of giggles, but not this time. He felt, rather than saw, her irritation at her ungainly landing. She tore her arm out his grasp and leapt to her feet. “What place is this?” she demanded.

“It’s Azkaban,” he answered as he rose to a stand. The night sky was cloudless and a half moon shone giving enough just light to see silhouettes and shapes but no detail. The prison was a dark shadow against a darker sky; the windows visible as rectangles of light puncturing the darkness. Every so often one of the windows would disappear and re-appear as a shade glided across them. The dementors slowly circled the building and Snape shivered partly due to his lack of clothing and partly for the fear the dementors generated. Azalea seemed unconcerned at the presence of the dementors, their effect not yet having reached her.

“The wizard prison? Why have you brought me here?” she asked, looking around her. He didn’t respond. A change in the movement of the dementors had caught his eye, one of the shades had ceased to fly around the building and was drifting towards them. Azalea followed his line of sight and looked curiously at the spectre. “Is that a dementor?”

“Yes,” he answered quietly, as if the noise would bring it down on them more quickly. She walked towards the shadow coming in their direction. “Azalea, stay away from it,” he warned her urgently.

“It holds no fear for me,” she stated but stopped after a few yards because the ground was uneven and was causing her to stumble. She levitated and glided towards it, they met in the air above the treacherous rocks surrounding the prison. The grey shadow of the dementor and the pale-clothed woman swirling together not quite in unison, moving in and out of time, hands raised but never touching, as if in a mid-air dance to discordant music. 

Snape watched in horrified fascination. Abruptly the dance stopped and he felt the attention of the dementor directed at him. The dementor, in an incongruously graceful movement, headed towards him. Snape stepped back trying to flee from the dark shadow closing in on him. He was lightly dressed and already feeling cold but the temperature dropped to icy and the hairs on his body stood erect as the dark hooded creature came closer and closer. His fear turned to terror and any happiness he had was drained from him, leaving only guilt and despair. It was his fault Lily had died, all his fault, she would be alive if not for him; her beloved son would not be an orphan. Azalea, she would be better off without him. What had his love ever brought her, just secrecy and lies? Now he had stripped away her soul. “Yes,” whispered a voice in his head, “you have left only pain and suffering in your wake, now it is time to die, Severus. Submit to my kiss, give me your soul as I can’t take hers”.

Azalea had drifted down to the ground and was watching impassively as the dementor approached Snape. “Azalea, help me, help me please. It’s going to kill me,” he begged with the remaining strength of will he had in his desire to live.

She tilted her head to one side, a gesture he was familiar with but her words gave him no comfort, “Whether you live or die is of little concern to me.”

Snape looked towards her; it was too dark to make out her features but he remembered the loving way she usually looked at him and he imagined that was the expression she had on her face now, it would make his passing easier than that way. The dementor leaned in and it putrid smell filled his nostrils, its mouth came closer and he could hear it taking deep breaths as if sucking liquid through a straw. He could feel something tear away from inside his heart and his mind. The end was coming. “Leah” he cried out “What have I done to you? Forgive me, forgive me, my love. My everlasting and eternal love.”

He heard her voice, “I do not forgive. However, I do have a use for you. You will not die yet. EXPECTO PATRONUM” A burst of light exploded into the night and the dementor was ripped away from him. He staggered backwards with the force of the rupture. In front of him Azalea stood pointing her wand at the dementor and from the tip of wand poured out thousands of silver bees. He had never seen her patronus but it was fitting that it was bees. The bees formed a swarm and surrounded the dementor. It tried to escape but Azalea flicked her wand with a slashing movement and the bees dived stinging the dementor with their barbed stings. Unlike real bees they did not die when they stung and attacked it again and again their movement mirroring Azalea’s slicing actions. The dementor weakened and started to lose integrity, bits of its body coming apart. Each smaller part was pounced upon by the swarm who cut it to shreds, until the pieces of the dementor were too small to join up and reform and they drifted away on the sea breeze to land in a thousand different locations on the rocks before being swept into the sea by the waves crashing against the land. 

Azalea lowered her wand and darkness fell. “You destroyed it,” Snape said in wonderment, “I’ve never heard of a dementor being killed. They usually retreat to fight another day.”

“They die easily when they are chopped to pieces. You should know - Sectumsempra is your spell. ” said Azalea. “It is done. Now we leave. Come,” she took hold of his arm and disapparated them away.

They appeared in a secure yard in which were stored several low, sleek looking cars. Waving her hand towards a set CCTV cameras she said “I’ll get rid of those.” The cameras tilted upward so they were filming only the night sky. “We don’t want to be identified,” she commented and waving her wand the two of them were clothed in dark coloured trousers and a hooded top which obscured their faces. “We’ll need gloves too,” she said and a pair of soft leather gloves covered his hands. “Right, which one will we take?” She didn’t wait for an answer, the question had been rhetorical and she marched up to a red car with a long bonnet on which was an emblem of a black prancing horse. “This one will do.” She clapped her hands and the doors unlocked and opened. “Get in,” she ordered as she took the driving seat. Another clap and the engine roared into life. “I’ve always wanted to drive one these,” she said and pushed the gear lever forward. Depressing the accelerator pedal she moved towards the locked gate. Snape thought she was going to crash straight through them but with a wave of her hand the gates burst open and she sped out of the compound. “You didn’t think I would smash into the gates did you?” she asked glancing over to him with a smug grin. “I don’t want to ruin the car before I’ve had my fun. Now let’s see what this baby can do.” With that she sped up through the gears and raced away.

Snape had been on the Night Bus once or twice but that was like a Sunday afternoon drive compared to the way Azalea drove this car. She weaved through the traffic, overtook on blind corners, raced up behind other drivers flashing the headlights of the car at them until they were forced to move over. Once on the motorway she remarked, “This car can do 180 miles per hour.” She pushed her foot and the car effortlessly accelerated. The ride was so smooth that Snape didn’t feel the speed until he saw the speedometer dial move to higher numbers as the speed increased. As the dial approached 150 Azalea glanced in the rear view mirror. “Damn,” she said. “There’s a police car behind me. I know we can outrun it but he’s probably warned his mates up ahead that we’re coming. Time to get off.” With that she swung the car across two lanes of traffic and raced up the exit slip. She slowed a little as they reached the roundabout and set off down the first road. The police car which had closed the gap did not copy her dangerous manoeuvre and continued up the motorway. “Whoa, that was fun,” Azalea crowed and continued to race down the country lanes they now found themselves in. Snape gripped the sides of the seat and at times closed his eyes at her reckless driving. They were speeding down a straight piece of road when the engine suddenly cut out and the car coasted to a halt despite Azalea’s furious pounding of the accelerator pedal. She cursed, “No fuel left. This car is useless now.” She stopped in the middle of the road and leapt out of the driver’s seat swearing loudly.

Snape got out of the car shakily, relieved that it had now stopped, it was one of the most terrifying experiences of his life. “You can’t leave the car there,” he pointed out, “Someone could crash into it.”

“It’s a piece of junk now,” she said and lifted it with her wand and threw it into over the hedge where they could hear it crashing as it rolled down a slope. Azalea ran to a nearby gate and looked over it. “This a quarry. I’m going to try my hand at open cast mining.” She flew over the gate and glided down into a deep pit. Snape followed her. He knew he could take the opportunity to leave her, but he felt responsible for her current state and he needed to be sure she would survive this and to be there to help her home when the potion wore off. In the quarry Azalea was firing off spells through her wand and great chunks of rock were being ripped from the side of the quarry. The air was filled with falling rocks as if they were being ejected from a volcano. She was laughing manically and dodging the rocks or blasting them into dust if they came too close. Snape cast a protective shield around himself so any rocks would bounce off and leave him unharmed. The wreck of the Ferrari was being battered by the debris falling all around. 

“Azalea,” Snape shouted when he caught up with her. “Stop. The noise will attract muggles, we need to get out of here.” He looked up at the top of the quarry and could see wavering torchlights pointing into the pit. “It’s too late, they’ve already heard it. We need to leave now!” 

To his surprise she stopped at once at followed his gaze upwards. The last of the rocks landed and silence fell. Snape dropped the shield he had around him. Carried on the still air he could hear voices. “There’s a car down here,” they heard a male voice shout, “maybe it hit the explosives we’d set up for tomorrow.”

“I hope there’s no one in it,” said another voice, “The emergency services are tied up in that gang fight in the city centre.”

“Gang fight?” whispered Azalea, “let’s go and see.” Grabbing Snape’s arm she disapparated and they arrived in the city centre. Snape looked around at where they were and thought they had landed in a version of hell. An upturned car had been set on fire and now smouldered on the street, casting an orange glow on crowds of youths and young men fighting each other. Fists and boots landing on the soft parts of the body, with sickening crunches, blood pouring down faces and staining clothes a rusty hue. Projectiles of stones and bottles being hurled indiscriminately. Police dressed in riot gear carrying body length shields waded in between the two warring gangs trying to separate them and throwing them into police wagons where the fighting continued. At the edges of the fight stood women and girls egging on the combatants, shouting for the gang they were linked to and reserving their real fury for the police.

Snape looked across at Azalea and in the firelight he could see she was enjoying the spectacle. Her eyes were wide and bright, she had a broad smile on her face when she saw a particularly vicious attack take place. Some of the gang members had knives and were diving into the fray stabbing at their rivals, red gashes opening up in tender parts. One wounded gang member staggered towards them clutching a wide cut in his arm. “Are you going to heal him?” Snape asked without thinking of the change the frozen soul potion had made to her.

“No,” she answered, “but I can hide his pain.” She held up her wand and he heard her whisper “Crucio.” The man doubled over in agony, the pain of his cut arm registering as little more than a scratch compared to the searing pain that now wracked the rest of his body. He put his hand to his head and screamed. Azalea laughed and pointing her wand at another unfortunate rioter she said, “Imperio.” The man she had targeted stopped fighting and started to walk stiffly towards the burning vehicle, he picked up a broken bench that had been damaged during the fight and threw it on the vehicle before walking away to get another. Azalea summoned some more timber and added it to the pyre. The man now had another piece of broken bench and continued to walk towards the vehicle which was now well ablaze with the addition of the timber. His face was contorted with fear and his jerky movements took him ever closer to the fire.

Snape grabbed Azalea by the shoulder and spun her round to face him, “Let him go!” he commanded angrily. His action broke her concentration on the unforgivable curses and both rioters were released from her control and quickly ran from the scene. 

For an instant her eyes flashed red as Snape had forced her to look away, but he could see another idea cross her face. She sidled up to him and pressed her body against his, “Are you being all masterful?” she purred in his ear. “I have a use for you still.” She took hold of his hand and pulled him into a nearby alley, a narrow gap between two buildings. The sound of the disturbance was muted here. She pushed him up against the wall and her hands started to pull at his clothing as she rubbed her body against him and bit at his ear lobe. 

He detached her hands from his clothes and pushed her away from him. He had just seen her use two unforgivable curses but his body was responding to hers, his baser instincts overriding the wrongness of what she had done. “Not here,” he said, “Not like a pair of rutting alley cats in heat.”

She looked at him appraisingly, a small smile playing around her lips. “You’re right, we deserve better.” She took his hand and peered around the edge of the alley. They could hear the sound of sirens and heavy vehicles approaching. Azalea whispered, “They’ve brought in the water cannons, time to go.” One more time she apparated them to a place of her choosing.

Snape knew very little about muggle hotels but even he could tell that the hotel they were standing in front of was very exclusive indeed. “This should be good enough for us,” Azalea declared.

“We can’t afford this,” he protested.

“Who said anything about paying?” she said and stepped forwards.

“Look how we’re dressed, they’ll never let us in,” he said. 

“That’s easily sorted, muggles are always impressed by outward appearance,” Azalea said and converted their dusty and dark clothes to expensive designer suits. “Now we are a successful business couple. Let me do the talking.”

They walked up to the grand entrance where an attendant in a smart blue and red coat opened the door for them. At the reception desk Azalea said confidently, “We have a booking. In the name of Fitzwilliam.” The receptionist opened the register, Azalea glanced at it and could see that at least one room was not reserved that night. She leaned over and pointed to an entry, as she touched it the name Fitzwilliam appeared in the space, “There it is, that’s our booking and it’s been prepaid.”

The receptionist said “It’s the honeymoon suite. I didn’t realise it was booked today.”

Azalea smiled at him, “it’s been a while since our honeymoon but sometimes we like to relive our memories, don’t we darling?” she added turning to Snape and kissing him passionately on the lips.

The receptionist unlocked the cupboard behind him and selected the key for the room from it. He coughed to regain their attention. Azalea detached herself from Snape and took the key from the man’s outstretched hand. “The room is on the top floor. Do you have any luggage, madam?” he enquired.

“Only this overnight bag,” Azalea said, showing him a small suitcase she had just conjured. “We’ll manage to carry it. Thank you for your assistance.” She led Snape towards the lift, and they were directed to their room by the lift attendant. 

Once inside the room Snape did not have the time to marvel at the sumptuousness of the room before Azalea had locked the door, cast the bag to one side and heaved Snape onto the bed with a well-aimed spell, freezing him with a body bind. Her eyes flashed dark red and she hissed, “Now I will make use of you.”

A wave of panic gripped him, this was not the Azalea he knew and loved. What had he done to her? She saw the uncertainty and laughed aloud. “Don’t worry Sev, I only want to play with you. Oh, and don’t bother trying to disapparate out of here. I’ve set wards on the room, no-one can get in or out without my permission.”


	47. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea is shocked by how she has behaved and is cool towards Severus. She spends some quality time with Sirius. She is struggling with the aftereffects of the potion and asks for help.

Azalea awoke early the next morning and found herself in a large comfortable bed in a room she didn’t recognize. She turned over in the bed and saw Severus lying at the edge of the bed as far from her as he could get. With sickening clarity she recalled the events of the previous night. She’d stolen a Ferrari and gone for a joy ride before scrapping the car in a quarry; she’d destroyed the quarry; she’d used two unforgivable curses on muggles and if not for Severus she would have forced one of them to throw himself on a fire; she’d stolen a night at an expensive hotel. And Severus - what she had done to him was tantamount to assault, maybe it was assault. Suddenly she felt sick. She slipped quickly out of the bed and rushed to the bathroom where she retched and vomited until her insides ached. She stood at the sink and washed her face in cold water. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, her face was pale and she had black circles contrasting with the green of her irises which stared accusingly at her. She hated the sight of herself and looked away to dry her face on the towel.

She crept quietly back into the bedroom and looked at the man asleep in the bed. He had moved away from the edge of the bed after she had got out and was now lying face down with the duvet up to his waist. On his back she could see scratches and bruises, and she knew there were more of the same elsewhere on his body. She was reminded forcefully of the cuts inflicted on him by Voldemort and she felt sick at heart that she had the capacity to be as cruel as the Dark Lord. She reached out and gently held her hand over Severus’ back, and concentrated on the healing spells. 

The sensation of the healing woke him up and he turned over quickly and caught her hands in a vice like grip. Azalea stopped the healing spell and made no attempt to release her hands. She gazed at him and her guilty eyes filled with tears. He relaxed his hold on her hands and instead gathered her into his arms whispering, “You’re back. You’ve come back.” She let her tears fall unchecked on to his chest and her heaving sobs shook her body. 

She pushed herself away from him and reached out blindly to locate a box of tissues on the bedside table. He got it for her and handed her a tissue. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Severus. I don’t know what came over me to make me do those things. Will you let me heal the cuts for you, it’s the least I can do?”

He turned back onto his front and she continued to heal his injuries; her gentle touch being so much more to his taste that the violent way she had acted when under the influence of the frozen soul potion. She finished working on his back and turned her attention to the rest of his body healing anything she found. Not all the injuries had been inflicted by her; despite his precautions he sported injuries from Azkaban, the quarry and the fight. When she’d finished she lay down on the bed next to him, curled into a foetal-shaped ball and stared vacantly into space. He noticed she was shivering and he pulled the duvet over them. He reached out to her but she pulled away. “How can you bear to touch me after the things I did?” she asked miserably. “If I can do things like that to the person I love more than anyone else, what will I be like to people I don’t love? I used two unforgivable curses on the men in the city centre and I would have watched them die.”

“But you didn’t,” he said.

“That’s only because you stopped me. What sort of person am I deep inside if I do things like that? In my darkest soul I’m no better than Voldemort.” She curled up tighter into herself.

He hated it when she withdrew from him but he felt warmed by her casual statement that she loved him more than anyone. He wanted no secrets between them that involved her and he would never want her to believe she was truly evil, like the Dark Lord. “I’m partly to blame,” he said gently. “The wine you drank at my house contained a potion to freeze souls. You were acting as you would if you had no soul.”

“Why would you want to freeze my soul?” she asked listlessly.

“It wasn’t meant for you,” he replied.

“Why would you want to freeze anybody’s soul?” she amended.

“I needed to know if it would make people immune to the effects of the dementors,” he told her.

“I can tell you that it does.” She opened her eyes and regarded him with horror as she remembered. “I was going to let it kill you.” She sat up and stared at him, “the only reason I didn’t let it kill you was because I wanted to have sex with you. And look how that turned out – I assaulted you.”

Now it was turn his to stare at her in horror. “No you didn’t! Don’t you ever think that way! I was a willing participant.”

She sobbed, “I don’t remember it like that – I hurt you and made you do things you didn’t want to do in a stupid punishment and reward game and I locked you in the room so you couldn’t escape.”

“It was my fault you took the potion, I needed to make sure you came to no harm and if that meant me losing some of my dignity then so be it.”

“You could have lost so much more than your dignity.” She looked into his eyes, and continued in a whisper, “If you had fought me I would have killed you. If by some stroke of luck you had managed to kill me, you would have been trapped in this room until you died of starvation. The wards I have used here don’t fall away when I die. They would stand for a thousand years before they failed.” At this point she summoned her wand and released the wards. “You are free to go now.”

“I’m not leaving without you,” he said. “We arrived as a couple reliving our honeymoon, we need to act as if we had.”

She gave a faint smile, “Some second honeymoon, eh?”

“I sincerely hope our first one will be better,” he said responding to her slightly lighter mood.

She looked at him in shock at his words, “How can you even think we have a future together after this? How can you still want to be with me?”

“Because I love you,” he said simply. “Last night wouldn’t have happened if I had been more careful.”

She was grateful he was willing to share the blame and loved him for it but in her mind it didn’t excuse her actions or, now she thought about it, his. “Promise me you’ll never make or use that potion again,” she said earnestly. He didn’t respond instantly and she knew by his hesitation that it was a promise he wouldn’t keep even if he made it. She pushed the duvet aside and got out of the bed. “I think I need to leave now,” she said quietly. “I’ve got a lesson with Filius and plans for tomorrow.” She retrieved the smart suit that she had worn the day before and got dressed. Severus watched her as she dressed. Finally she spoke to him, “Are you coming? We need to leave together.”

He dressed quickly, they left the room and handed the key back assuring the hotel receptionist that everything had been perfect. Once outside, Azalea said to Snape, “I think I’ll miss the next few potions lessons. I’ll just read up on the subject. I’ll see you when I see you.”

Snape made no attempt to follow her and Azalea returned to Grimmauld Place. 

\--oOo--

Once there she had a long shower, wishing that she’d made use of the bathroom in the hotel. She was hungry by now and went to the kitchen where Sirius was sitting at the kitchen table.

“Good morning,” he said brightly, as she made her way to the sink to fill up the kettle with water, “I thought I heard you come back, did you have a nice time last night?”

For a split second Azalea wondered what he was talking about, of course she hadn’t, but she immediately recalled that she had told him she was visiting a muggle friend. She’d had her back to him and he didn’t notice her fleeting shocked expression. She recovered and turned to face him as she carried the kettle to the cooker, smiling she said, “Yes, the time just flew by, I never realised there was so much to organise and talk about for a wedding.”

Sirius said, “The only wedding I’ve ever been to was James and Lily’s and my involvement as best man was taking James out for drink on his stag night and not losing the wedding rings on the day.”

Azalea sat down at the table with him and joined in the reminiscing, “I remember it was a bit more than a drink. You got him drunk and charmed him so he was covered in hair and looked like an extra from Planet of the Apes. Then you didn’t release the charm until the morning of the wedding.”

Sirius laughed as he remembered, “Lily was furious calling me infantile and irresponsible.” He became serious and continued, “James was my best friend I would never have let him get him married looking like a monkey.”

Azalea commented, “Even if you had, Lily would still have married him, she was besotted. Although I have to admit that it did annoy me that she wouldn’t always stand up for her beliefs when his differed from hers.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sirius, “they always seemed to have the same views to me.”

“Well they did as long as they were James’s views,” said Azalea with a touch of cynicism.

“I think you’re being unkind especially as they’re not here to defend themselves,” said Sirius frowning at her in disapproval for criticising his friend.

The kettle was about to boil and Azalea got up to make tea and to cut a slice of bread to eat. “I don’t mean to be unkind, all I am saying that no one would sway me from my strongly held beliefs, no matter how much I loved them.” Azalea noticed that she had managed to turn Sirius’s mood sour, so changed the subject. “Are you still up for going out for a drink with Filius and me after my charms lessons?”

“Certainly,” he said “let me know when you’re ready and I’ll put on my disguise.”

\--oOo--

That night Azalea lay in bed unable to sleep. Since she had returned to Grimmauld Place that day she had been keeping up a pretense that everything was well and she had pushed her concerns to the back of her mind while she acted cheerfully for the benefit of Filius and Sirius. They’d had an enjoyable time at the pub. She had introduced Sirius to Filius as her friend Solomon and the three of them had joked and laughed as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Sirius responded well to Filius’ sense of humour and it saved Azalea the effort of being his only companion for an evening. Filius must have known there was more to Solomon than met the eye and he didn’t probe too deeply into Solomon’s past or follow up the evasive answers to his questions. By the end of the evening Sirius had come home in a better frame of mind than she had seen for weeks and had gone to bed in a relaxed mood looking forward to tomorrow and the trip out with Azalea. 

Azalea hoped Sirius would have a better night’s sleep than she was having. Her brain was working overtime trying to process the things she had done and the things that had been done to her. She could forgive Severus for his role in her drinking the frozen soul potion. She would forgive him many things, did her love for him blind her to his faults? She believed Severus absolutely when he said the frozen soul potion had not been intended for her, but what had possessed him to make such an evil concoction in the first place? Why would he not promise to never use it again? She could only speculate it was something to do with Voldemort. Severus never volunteered any information about the plans of Voldemort and his own role as a spy for Dumbledore and she never asked. If she didn’t know, it would not be possible for her to tell anyone. She remembered Severus’ implied proposal that morning and, whether or not he had been genuinely suggesting they get married, her shocked reaction questioning his love for her could not be undone.

She tried to find a more comfortable position in the bed to help her to sleep but whenever she closed her eyes she vividly recalled the way she had acted and how she had felt under the effects of the frozen soul potion. It had made her feel free to behave in whatever way she wanted and never mind the consequences. Some part of her had exercised caution to avoid being identified when she’d stolen the car but as the night went on she had felt more powerful and more reckless. The sensation of the power flowing through her as she destroyed the car and the quarry remained with her and she could still feel the thrill of untapped power. Earlier that day when she had been practicing charms with Filius she had intended to make a teapot dance across the table, but instead had set the whole table running around the room. Filius had expressed surprise because she didn’t usually make mistakes like that, but Azalea had known it to be a lack of control. 

Azalea finally fell asleep and woke up the next day not particularly refreshed but she was burning with energy and suggested to Sirius that they take Buckbeak and spend the day somewhere warm, like Australia, where they could go for a long trek and swim afterwards. Sirius agreed but she was surprised by his lack of geographical knowledge about where Australia was and what it was like - wizard education was sadly lacking in some areas. Where it was located in the world didn’t really matter and making the most of the emptiness of the vast Australian countryside Sirius dropped his disguise for of the day. 

As they lay on a deserted beach in the warm evening sun Azalea asked Sirius why he didn’t just move out of London and find somewhere else to live. 

“I tried it for a while,” Sirius explained. “When I first escaped, Buckbeak and I travelled from place to place but I came back when Harry entered the Triwizard Tournament. I was worried about him and needed to make sure he was safe. Life on the run is not easy, you can’t stay in one place for long and you don’t know who you can trust. I ended up treating everyone with suspicion and I was alone most of time. In some ways, coming back to help Harry was all the excuse I needed to give it up.”

“But you’re even more trapped now,” Azalea remarked. “You can’t even venture out as Padfoot anymore. Peter Pettigrew is certain to have told Voldemort about you being an animagus.”

Sirius expression hardened at the mention of the man he had believed to be his friend. “Yes and the Ministry of Magic will know as well. Voldemort and the Ministry have spies everywhere. I’m not really safe wherever I go.”

“Should we be doing this, Sirius?” Azalea asked in concern. “Going on these outings I mean. Isn’t it too much of a risk?”

“Leah, I’m going mad stuck in that house all day. I can’t wait until you get home at the end of the day and I love listening to you tell me about your day at work. I live for the Order of the Phoenix meetings so I can see other people. Not to mention that I’m worried about Harry; that Umbridge woman seems to have it in for him, and there’s nothing I can do to help him. I’ll take the risk when we go on our outings, I think it’s worth it to keep me sane. If Voldemort or the Ministry find me I won’t go down without a fight.”

Azalea rolled over to face Sirius and said, “If that happens I’ll be right by your side.”

He reached out and caressed her hand, “and if it’s your life or mine, then leave me and get away safely.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” she said.

“But if it does then promise me that you’ll get to safety,” he pleaded.

She didn’t want to add to his worries over something that may never happen so she made him her promise. Then she further promised to take him out again next week.

\--oOo--

By the end of the week Azalea was finding it increasingly difficult to keep control when she performed magic. At work she had largely avoided having to do spells and had made discreet enquiries to her colleagues about an inability to control magic. She was told that it was something that affected children, when they were new users of magic, and that they grew out of it. Ever since she had discovered she had magical abilities, Azalea had always been able to control her magic. She was sure the frozen soul potion was somehow at the root of it. If that was not the case she simply did not have the time to grow out of it. She was reluctant to inform anyone at St Mungo's about her present difficulties in case they suspended her from work. She could think of only one person who might be able and willing to help so she went to see him – Albus Dumbledore.

Azalea now sat in Dumbledore’s office, drinking his substandard tea and after the usual pleasantries she could see he was waiting for her to explain the reason for her visit. She started the conversation from a tangent, “Professor, you remember the first time we met, I made a comment about some evil coming this way and you said it wasn’t me?”

“Yes I remember,” he replied.

“I’m not so sure now that it isn’t me?” Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in query and she continued, “Recently something happened that’s made me realize that I am capable of evil. Great evil.”

“We’re all capable of evil,” he told her, “but it’s how we act on it that makes the difference between whether you are or are not evil.”

“But I did act on it. I did some things that were wrong and I put people in danger!” she cried.

“What exactly did you do and how did it happen?” he asked in a low but commanding voice.

Azalea considered how much she should tell him. She had come here to ask for his help so owed him some element of the truth. Firmly closing her mind against any intrusion by his occlumency skills she said shame-facedly, “I stole, I destroyed property, I used unforgivable curses and I tortured someone.”

Dumbledore was taken aback by her honesty and by the things she had done. Before the day she turned up at Hogwarts, which she had referred to earlier, he had seen her on two other occasions – once at Lily’s wedding and the next time at Harry’s first birthday party. He had always prided himself on being able to tell a wizard from a muggle just by looking at them. She had looked different to the other muggles at the wedding and he thought she was a witch who must have attended a school other than Hogwarts but he soon learned she was merely Lily’s muggle cousin. The next time he saw her was at Harry’s first birthday party, she had been carrying Harry around and the baby had entangled himself in the chains she had been wearing. She had gone to Lily to get the child untangled and when the three of them were standing closely together, Dumbledore had a strong feeling that he was looking at three people with significant contributions to make to the wizard wars. He was no great believer in prophecies or premonitions, but so far he had been proved correct. By her death, Lily had endowed her child with protection against Voldemort, and Voldemort himself had named Harry as his nemesis.

Dumbledore instinctively knew that Azalea had a role to play in future events but he didn’t know what that role would be. All he knew was that he needed to keep her away from evil and on the side of good because she could be called upon at any time to perform whatever task she was destined for. Perhaps she was doing it already? He knew that Snape was in love with her and maybe it was his concern for her that contributed to Snape keeping up his end of the bargain by spying on Voldemort. Snape had recently told Dumbledore that Voldemort had sent envoys to the giants, bringing them food and promises of land and power if they would join Voldemort’s army. Dumbledore decided on further consideration Azalea’s role would be more important than just that. Whilst Snape’s spying gave him useful and advance information on the enemy’s plan, he could manage without it and get information in other ways, after all Hagrid had confirmed the information about Voldemort’s approach to the giants when he had returned. 

Dumbledore was sure that Azalea’s role would be more about protecting Harry, she was his family after all. When Lily and James had been killed, Dumbledore had to take Harry to a family member for protection and he had chosen Petunia, firstly because she was Harry’s closest blood relative and secondly because Petunia knew about the existence of the wizard world, which Azalea did not. Petunia had a young son slightly older than Harry and she would need to provide her own son with a home until he grew up. At the time Dumbledore has seen more certainty in Harry having a long term home with Petunia that with Azalea and her mother. It hadn’t occurred to him that Petunia would not feel any affection for her nephew. With hindsight it may have been better to give Harry to loving relatives and run the risk of a lower level of protection against Voldemort but what was done was done.

These thoughts had passed through Dumbledore’s mind quickly and he responded to Azalea’s confession, “That’s what you did, how did it happen?”

Azalea hesitated before giving a half truth, “I took a muggle drug and it affected my judgment and self-control.”

Dumbledore continued as if he believed her story, “and have you taken any more of this drug?”

“No, and I don’t intend to.”

“I’m pleased to hear it,” said Dumbledore “and is your judgment still affected?”

“Not really. But now I’m finding it hard to control my power. It’s like a surge of electricity, as if it’s building up in my body and the only way to release it is to earth it. The last time it happened I went into a desert and discharged the power into the sand. It must have looked like an electrical storm from a distance.”

“Azalea, why have you come to me about this?” he enquired, peering at her over his half-moon spectacles.

Azalea replied sheepishly, “I’ve been told that you are the most powerful wizard alive, more powerful than Voldemort. It that’s true then I thought you might know how to control power. I’d rather ask you than Voldemort,” she added in an attempt at levity.

“I’m sure the stories about me are greatly exaggerated,” said Dumbledore modestly, “but I think I can help you.”

He showed her some exercises and techniques to keep the feeling of power under control. As usual she learned them very quickly. He told her the most important thing was to keep calm and not let her emotions get the better of her. He offered to coach her again at a later date once she had practiced what she had learned today and she gratefully accepted his offer. 

After she’d gone the portrait of the former headmaster, Phineas Black, spoke laconically to Dumbledore, “You’d better keep an eye on that one; I think with proper training she could beat you in an unfair fight.”

“That is indeed possible, Phineas, and in a fair fight too. I need to know that there are younger people to follow me when I am gone to continue the struggle against evil. I must make sure she doesn’t stray onto the wrong side.” Dumbledore said, more convinced than ever that Azalea would play an important part in the days to come.


	48. Winter Woes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape moves forward with his plans to break the prisoners from Azkaban. He and Azalea try to come to terms with their actions. Sirius gives Azalea a gift.

Snape had regrets about involving Azalea in the frozen soul trial but given the circumstances what else could he have done? He reported to Voldemort that he had found a potion which made the drinker immune to the call of the dementors but had a side effect which meant that the drinker would not act as commanded. Voldemort’s solution to this was to use weak willed subjects to take the potion and to use the imperius curse to make them submit to the plan. Voldemort’s solution to the next difficulty Snape raised had been less to his liking.

“My Lord, now I have successfully made the frozen soul potion I will willingly make more. However, one of the ingredients is rare and expensive. The only supplier I know of is Scrips and Co. I have already purchased it from there and I would raise suspicion if I purchased more. Might I ask that three other of the Death Eaters assembled round the table go separately to Scrips and buy the ingredient?” he respectively requested.

Voldemort looked bored at being involved in such a mundane matter. “What manner of ingredient is it that is so precious?” he drawled in enquiry.

“Fairy wings.” Snape replied.

Voldemort sat up straighter and his eyes glinted maliciously. “Fairy wings? There are plenty of fairies in your garden Lucius, use some of them.”

Lucius and Snape were both appalled at the suggestion. “But my lord,” Snape protested, “the fairies gift their wings to wizards upon their death. It is seen as an honourable and selfless act upon the part of the fairies. It is akin to a wizard letting the healers use parts of his body for transplant when he is dead in order to save the life of another wizard.”

Lucius added his voice to the argument, “My Lord, fairies have been at Malfoy Manor for generations, they protect the manor from all types of invaders. If we ask this of them they will leave the grounds forever.”

Voldemort said in his silky persuasive voice, “Lucius, you are under my protection now, what need have you of fairy magic? Severus, you forget that fairies are not wizards, like all magical creatures a fairy’s role in life is to serve wizards.” He uncoiled himself from the chair and strode towards the door. “Come,” he commanded “I will get the fairy wings.”

With extreme reluctance, the assembled Death Eaters followed Voldemort into the garden. As Voldemort had observed there were plenty of fairies in the grounds of Malfoy Manor. Several of them were flying around the fountain diving in and out the streams of water in a kaleidoscope of colour. The sight called to Snape’s mind the Christmas Ball last year when Azalea had been directing the fairies to fly around her; he had scared them off when he had approached to claim his dance with her. He hoped he would be able to scare them away now and he made as much noise as he reasonably could whilst the Death Eaters walked up towards the fountain. It was in vain, the Malfoy Manor fairies were quite tame and were used to being unmolested in their home. They ignored the group of Death Eaters who were coming to watch them play. 

Voldemort stopped in front of the fountain, “Any preference?” he asked Snape.

“No, my Lord,” Snape replied loudly still trying to scare the fairies away but once again it had no effect.

Voldemort watched the fairies darting like sparks through the spray of the fountain but Snape could detect no wonder or joy at the sight in Voldemort’s serpent like face, he was merely analysing the most effective way of hitting three fairies in one go. As quick as a snake striking its prey Voldemort’s wand spat out a venomous stream of magic and three fairies fell to the ground, the others scattered and their shrill screams of fear and rage could be heard echoing throughout the grounds.

Voldemort lifted the dead fairies using a simple levitation spell and directed them to Snape who had had no choice but to take the tiny creatures in his hand, cradling them with respect for their sacrifice. “I trust that you will able to obtain the remainder of the ingredients without my help?” Voldemort said smoothly.

“Yes, my Lord,” Snape whispered. 

Voldemort led the Death Eaters back into the house oblivious to the sight of hundreds of fairies, in the shape of a meteor shower, fleeing Malfoy Manor never to return. Snape noticed tears glistening in Lucius’ eyes catching the light reflected from the exodus of the fairies. Malfoy would not forgive him easily for this.

At a later meeting, Snape outlined to Voldemort his plan to break the prisoners from Azkaban. Three of the Death Eaters were to drink the frozen soul potion which would make them of no interest to the dementors. These three would keep the dementors at bay using the patronus spell, or by any other method that worked. The remaining Death Eaters were to enter the prison. Snape had intended for Narcissa to be included on the pretext that she was visiting her sister but Lucius vetoed the suggestion that she be involved and he said he would be the one to visit Bellatrix. Snape did not mind who was doing the visiting as long as the prison guard believed them and he knew that Lucius could be persuasive. In Lucius’ position, Snape would have done the same if it was his wife being asked to undertake a dangerous task. Once the security guard had opened the door to let in Malfoy, the other Death Eaters were to storm in after him and then using tranquiliser guns they would shoot the guard with a dart laced with a heavy sedative, any other guards they encountered were to receive the same treatment. 

Snape had stolen the tranquiliser guns from muggles. He had researched thefts and prison rescues by reading muggle books on the subject. On the practical front he had learned from Azalea’s car stealing techniques when she was under the influence of the frozen soul potion. He had covered his face and worn gloves and simply apparated into the building. He’d flipped up the CCTV cameras (he wouldn’t have even known what they were had it not been for Azalea), performed a locator spell on the equipment and ammunition he was looking for and then apparated out again with the stolen goods. 

He presented the tranquiliser guns to Voldemort who said, “Why have you acquired these particular guns? Muggles have invented many ways of killing each other. You should have found lethal firearms and then the prison guards could be killed. They are squibs,” he added contemptuously, “hardly better than a muggle.”

“We could do that, my lord,” Snape replied smoothly, “but if no one is killed, then the Ministry can play down or deny that there has been a breakout. The Ministry Wizards could even alter the memories of the guards to fit whatever the story the Ministry wants to tell. You cannot do that to a dead man. In addition, there will be no bereaved relatives seeking explanations and justice.” 

Voldemort’s red eyes flashed in irritation but he conceded the logic of Snape’s reasoning and Voldemort’s own desire to not yet have the full force of the Ministry searching for him.

Snape instructed the Death Eaters to learn how to use the tranquiliser guns and to practice shooting accurately. Voldemort informed Snape that he was not to go on the operation, Voldemort still needed him close to Dumbledore and the raid had to take place during the school term in order to give Snape an alibi. At present the shooting skill, or rather the lack of it, was the limiting factor in the rescue operation. It was looking increasingly unlikely that the plan could be put into effect before Christmas. Voldemort’s patience would not last for much longer and the operation would have to take place soon after the beginning of the spring term, no matter how inaccurately the Death Eaters could shoot the tranquiliser guns. 

\--oOo--

It was the beginning of December and around four weeks has passed since Azalea took the frozen soul potion. Snape thought back to the morning afterwards; his almost proposal and his refusal to make a promise that he wouldn’t keep. His relationship with Azalea had gone downhill since then, he had barely seen or spoken to her and she refused his attempts to speak to her mind to mind. She had sent him an essay by owl; he’d recognised her handwriting and for an instant his heart had soared that she had written to him but had sunk again when he’d opened the package. It was a good piece of work but he marked it down due to its poor presentation. He’d sent it back with the grade and the comment “this standard of presentation may be acceptable for muggles but it falls short of the standard I expect from my students.” The next essay she had sent had been slightly tidier and had included a note from her saying, “I was taught not to rate style over substance and that extends to more than just my written work.” Upon reading her note he felt a glimmer of hope because he wanted to believe that she was referring to him. 

Snape could no longer find excuses for himself not to try to talk to Azalea. His input into the rescue plan was largely complete; there wasn’t much else for him to do until the Death Eaters had improved their shooting skills and he could guess how most of them would be spending this Christmas. He desperately wanted to speak to Azalea and he threw caution to the wind and went uninvited to Grimmauld Place. He let himself in and crept quietly along the corridor so as not to disturb the portrait of Mrs Black. His excuse for being here was wafer thin (ostensibly to talk to Azalea about her essay) and if he could avoid meeting Sirius Black all the better. His entry had not gone undetected and Winky appeared in front of him, she stood in the centre of the corridor, arms folded and a fierce expression on her face. “Winky,” he whispered, “Where is Azalea?”

“My lady is in the kitchen.” Winky replied.

“Is she on her own?”

“Yes, and you is not to upset her,” she scolded him.

Snape gave a rueful smile, “I don’t deliberately try to upset her,” he said.

“Well you still does,” Winky said pertly and she left being assured the uninvited visitor was not an intruder or a danger to the household.

Snape descended the stairs to the kitchen and quietly opened the door. Azalea was sitting at the large table with text books spread over it, she was making notes with her muggle pen on a muggle notepad rather than with a wizard quill and parchment. She tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear and turned over the next page of the book she was working from. He felt his heart leap at the sight of her, even in this homely setting she was beautiful and he wondered how he could ever have thought her plain in appearance. He wanted to rush over to her, fall at her feet, beg forgiveness for any transgressions he had committed, hold her in his arms and take her away where no one could find them and they could live safely far from prying eyes. She became aware of his presence and looked towards the door, he stepped forward into the light. She put down her pen and said evenly, “Severus, what are you doing here?”

She had called him Severus, not Professor, he took that as a good sign and walked towards the table. “I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you.”

“About what? Is my work not up to your exacting standards?” she said with a bite to her voice and indicating her essay parchment he was holding.

“This is not about your work,” he said in frustration and throwing the essay on the table, “You know what it’s about.” He stood next to her chair and she pushed it back and rose to her feet. “Leah, please we must talk,” he said gently, “I can’t bear the silence between us - it burns my soul.”

“You have no right to talk to me about burning souls!” she spat out.

“Yes I do, I have every right,” he retorted.

Azalea grabbed his arm, “We can’t talk here, Sirius will be down soon. I don’t want to upset him.” She apparated them both out of the house. 

They appeared in a public park between a large grassed area and a boating pond but Severus didn’t take immediate notice of his surroundings. He snapped back at her, “So Black’s feelings are more important than mine are they?”

“Yes!” she responded passionately. “He’s not the one who tricked me into taking an evil potion, then used me to test it out. He’s not the one who led the dementors to me and who watched me kill one. He’s not the one who let me steal a car, destroy a quarry and use unforgivable curses on people!”

Severus was astonished at her outburst. “It didn’t happen like that! You know it didn’t! If I could take back that day I would in an instant, I’d trade my own soul to save yours.”

“Don’t speak to me of souls! You have no idea what mine is like now!

“Then tell me. Let me help you,” he pleaded.

“I don’t need your help, I have help from elsewhere.”

He jumped to the wrong conclusion, “Black!” he exclaimed and his face darkened. “He’s not the one you imprisoned, tortured and abused for your own amusement!”

Azalea face drained of all colour and he instantly regretted his words. “Azalea,” he began “I’m sorry, that was unworthy of me, I didn’t...”

“No,” she interrupted, “you’re right. I did do those things, it’s me that’s unworthy, not you.” She turned away from him and stared unseeing across the park. 

“Leah, don’t think too harshly of yourself, it was the frozen soul potion that made you feel unworthy and guilty. It does that to people who are good and whose souls are uncorrupted. The more evil you have the less guilty you’d feel.”

She made a derisory sound, “How does that work then? The more evil you are the less effect the potion has? So if you gave it someone who’s truly evil – like Voldemort – you wouldn’t notice any difference? But if you gave it to an angel then she’d change into a devil?”

“Essentially yes. The potion is part of the dark arts and its purpose is to corrupt innocent souls. The more often someone takes it the further into evil they would go. If they are already a long way down the road towards evil they wouldn’t need to take a potion, their soul will freeze due to their own actions. A Death Eater, for example, wouldn’t feel much remorse for any acts they’d committed under the effect of the potion. An angel, on the other hand, would be riddled with guilt and shame the first time she took it. She would need to take it many times before she became completely corrupted.” Severus stared at Azalea’s sad face, “You are my angel; I won’t let you be corrupted.”

Azalea looked at him steadily and said, “So promise me you’ll never make it again.”

“I promise” he replied.

Azalea was taken aback, his promise was given too easily. “You’ve already made it haven’t you?” she accused, but he neither confirmed nor denied the charge. He was wearing his poker face, the one he had put on during the occlumency lessons but she knew she was right. At least she had obtained his promise that he wouldn’t make any more in the future. 

A breeze blew across the grass and over the pond causing ripples in the water as it moved. Azalea shivered and Severus realised she was clad only in a shirt and jeans having come from the warm kitchen of Grimmauld Place. 

He stepped towards her, “You’re cold,” he said, “Come inside my cloak.” He held it open and invited her in.

Azalea took a half step towards him then stopped. “No,” she said, fearful that if she went into his arms she wouldn’t want to leave.

He sighed in exasperation at her stubbornness, removed the cloak and placed it around her shoulders. She wrapped herself in its folds, it smelt of him, warm and musky, she imagined for a moment it was actually him embracing her and not just his cloak. Such foolishness, she thought, he was standing next to her, she could have his real arms around her for the asking; she didn’t need the cloak as a poor substitute. “Now you’ll be cold,” she commented. He shrugged in reply. He was dressed in his Hogwarts robes, sombre black edged with the Slytherin green, not unlike the type of garment a monk might wear. His odd attire went unremarked in the park – Londoners were used to stranger sights.

Azalea started to walk briskly along the path, following the line of the pond, Severus fell into step with her. They walked in silence, each reluctant to start a conversation, not knowing which direction it should take. Azalea hugged the cloak tighter around her, grateful for the relief from the wind that was getter colder. Severus was wearing trousers and a shirt under his robe, a habit he got into half a lifetime ago after James Potter had used the Levicorpus jinx to hoist him by his leg and expose his underwear. The laughter and jeers from his school mates and the shame he had felt still echoed down the years, but worse was the memory that on that same day he had insulted Lily and threw her friendship back at her never to be regained. Once more he felt as if he was poised on the edge of a precipice, this time in his relationship with Azalea, and the wrong words would make his life fall apart. 

Azalea was the first to break the silence in a typical muggle way of avoiding the subject. “Do you have any plans for Christmas?”

Severus replied, “I’ll probably stay at Hogwarts. Unless I get a better offer,” he added hopefully.

Azalea glanced up at him, recalling the offer she had made him last year, which started off so well then fell to pieces. Their relationship had come a long way since then and now they were on the verge of repeating the same mistakes. She wanted to go back to where they had been but she feared what she might become if she lost control of her power. She needed more time to regain control. She didn’t make him a better offer. 

As they turned the corner at the edge of the pond a strong gust of wind caught the cloak she was wearing and Azalea grabbed the front with one hand to keep the garment from flying open, the other hand she thrust into a pocket to shield it from the biting wind. Something was in the pocket, she put her hand around it; when the gust had passed she pulled out her hand and looked at what she was holding. It was the photograph of Lily which she had given to Severus almost a year ago. The photograph was creased and dog-eared as if it had been carried around and taken out at on a regular basis since the day she had given it to him. She turned it over and on the back the words “Wish you were here, all my love Lily” were blurred with handling but still legible. Azalea’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at the photograph of her cousin, radiant in her beauty and youth, before the cares of war and the worry of motherhood had come to claim her. Azalea was gripped by a kind of jealously that Severus carried round a photograph of his first love and not of his current one. She pushed the thought away at once, what was wrong with him remembering his past? Azalea slowed her pace and brushed the tears from her eyes. Severus observed her gesture and saw that she was holding a photograph in her hand. She shoved it back where she had found it and removed the cloak she was wearing. She stopped and handed the cloak back to him, “Thanks for the loan of the cloak, but I need to go back home now, I’ve still got an assignment to finish for my healer’s course work and it’s due in tomorrow.” Azalea gave him a faint smile and walked to relative privacy of a large tree. Just before she apparated back to Grimmauld Place she glanced over towards ^^Severus?^^ she said telepathically.

^^Yes?^^ he responded glad she had broken this silence too.

^^Please give me some time. Don’t give up on us yet.^^

He smiled across the distance to where she stood and replied, ^^Never. I’ll never give up on you^^.

She popped out of sight and he put on the cloak feeling the benefit at once when it cut out the chill of the weather. It smelt faintly of her, vanilla and honey, and her warmth still lingered even as the cold wind tried to strip away all trace of her. 

Severus reached into his pocket and pulled out the photograph of Lily. Ever since he had discovered that Azalea loved him as much as he loved her, any romantic feelings of love for Lily that he had been clinging on to since her death had faded and evolved to those of friendship. The guilt remained for his involvement but he knew the real blame lay with Voldemort who broke his word to Snape that Lily would be unharmed when he had casually killed her. Snape was determined that Voldemort would be made to pay for her murder along with all the other deaths he had caused. He spoke aloud to the photograph as he had on so many occasions since Azalea had given it to him. “I wish you were still here, Lily, I need a friend to talk to. Someone who understands me and who understands love.” The sight of a man talking to himself in a London park was common these days, people would assume he was using a mobile phone, and he continued his one sided conversation. “Does anyone understand love? I suppose not. I’ll give her some time – perhaps it is all I can give her.”

\--oOo--

Shortly after Azalea and Snape had apparated from Grimmauld Place, Sirius came into the kitchen. Azalea wasn’t there, her work was spread out across the table and there was an unfinished mug of tea which was still warm. It was almost lunch time and he waited for her to return so they could have lunch together. He idly looked over the work she was doing noting that she preferred to write the muggle way with a ballpoint pen and paper. There was one wizard-style scroll on the desk and he picked it up and unrolled it. It was an essay on the uses and abuses of common fungi in potion making. At the top was a large grade A and a comment “presentation still requires improvement.” Sirius quickly read through the essay, it was perfectly legible and the content was good, he thought it had been downgraded – it was easily worth an E. The essay had been marked by Snape who had a reputation for not being fair with his grades and Sirius bristled with a sense of injustice on Azalea’s behalf. At the end of the essay was a comment by Azalea which was not part of the work. She had written, “I was taught not to rate style over substance and that extends to more than just my written work”. Underneath that in Snape’s handwriting were the words: “If you claim to know that style and image can be disguises for what lies underneath then I ask you to put theory into practice and reconsider your recent attitude”. Sirius was puzzled as to the meaning of this exchange but it suggested to him it was part of an ongoing disagreement. It would seem even Azalea, one of the friendliest people he knew, couldn’t get along with Snape. Sirius rolled up the parchment and put it back on the table. 

He went over to the kitchen cupboard to prepare lunch. He could have asked Winky or Kreacher to do it but he wanted something to occupy his time and preparation of food was a life skill he needed to learn in case he ever lost everything. Presently Azalea returned with the chill of outside clinging to her clothes and her cheeks flushed with pink. “Where have you been?” he asked.

“I just went outside for a breath of air and to clear my mind; it was going round in circles trying to get this assignment done,” she replied as she came towards him to stand by the hot cooker.

“Didn’t you take a coat?” he enquired.

“No, I forgot. That’s why I wasn’t out long, it’s cold outside.”

“I’ve heated up some of the soup I made yesterday so that should soon warm you up,” he said as he poured the soup into two bowls and handed one to her. 

“Don’t forget the bread,” she said carrying her soup to the table where she cleared a space and put it down. She picked up her potions essay and unrolled the scroll, she scowled at the grade and comment at the top of the page. She scanned down the rest of essay noting the corrections and pointers that Professor Snape had made to her work, he had made some valid observations but mostly he was just being pernickety. His final comment below hers made her pause, it was lucky she hadn’t read this before she spoke to him today. Taken in the context of their earlier conversation she interpreted it more sympathetically than she might otherwise have done. Sirius saw her throw the parchment to one side and he went to join her at the table whilst they ate their lunch together in quiet companionship.

When they had finished lunch, Sirius took their dirty crockery and left it in the sink for the house elves to deal with later – his desire to learn life skills did not extend to washing up. “Leah,” he said, “before you get back to your course work I’ve got something for you, come upstairs to the parlour.”

Azalea followed him to the room on the first floor which was a lot cleaner now than when Sirius had first moved back into the house. Sirius went to a glass fronted cabinet and took something out. “I’ve noticed you don’t wear your amulet any more so I thought you might like this.”

Azalea’s hand went instinctively to her neck where she wore the pendant that Severus gave her last year. She had taken it off after the frozen soul incident and hadn’t put it back on since, she thought she didn’t deserve to wear his token of love after the things she had done to him. She looked at the object Sirius was offering to her. It was a heavy golden locket engraved with an ornate serpentine S inlaid with tiny green stones. Azalea could see at once that it was an enchanted object, it positively glowed with magic. She took it from his hand and examined it more closely. She tried to prise it open but it didn’t move. As she held it she thought she could detect a slight throbbing coming from it, like a heartbeat. She relaxed her grip and decided it was probably her own pulse she could feel, it was an unnerving sensation all the same. Sirius was looking expectantly at her and she didn’t have the heart to turn down his gift outright. “It looks old, Sirius. Isn’t this pattern the sign of Salazaar Slytherin? Is it a family heirloom? It looks like it’s made of pure gold, and are these emeralds? I couldn’t possibly take something so valuable.” 

“No, keep it. I want you to have it. If it’s a family heirloom it was never one my mother wheeled out when she bragging about the supremacy of the Blacks and the other purebloods,” he said dismissively. “Anyway, I think the colour of the green stones matches your eyes.”

Azalea decided to argue no more. She put the locket around her neck but noticed a change in her mood. Whatever the enchantment on this piece of jewellery was, she decided that if she wore it for any length of time her emotions would be affected. She glanced into the cabinet that Sirius had got the locket from and noticed a silver chain bracelet with a charms hanging from it. She had an idea. “Sirius, this pendant is far too valuable to wear all the time, why don’t I keep it for special occasions and perhaps I could have that silver bracelet for everyday wear?”

Sirius took it out from the cabinet and on closer inspection Azalea could see the charms were a stag, a doe, a dog and a wolf. Sirius said, “I got this for Lily but she died before I could give it to her. 

Azalea said, “I didn’t know it was for Lily, in that case you keep it.”

“No,” said Sirius, “it’s right that you should have it. I had thought about giving to Harry but it never actually belonged to Lily. She was your cousin and it will suit you better than Harry.” He held it out towards her, then appeared to change his mind and pulled his hand back. “Wait, I’ve got an idea, see this space” he indicated that there was a wider gap between the dog and wolf charm than between the others. Azalea nodded. “There used to be a rat in there but I’ve thrown that away. Why don’t you get a charm to put there yourself? What shape is your patronus?”

“Bees,” replied Azalea.

“Perfect, we’ll get a charm shaped like a bee to put there and then you can have the bracelet for everyday wear.”

“I’ll do that, thank you Sirius, it’s very generous of you to think about giving me gifts,” said Azalea leaning forward and giving him a kiss on the cheek before going back downstairs to finish her coursework.


	49. Christmas

Neither Snape nor Azalea had a particularly good Christmas. Snape couldn’t bear the thought of his cold lonely house at Spinner’s End without Azalea’s presence to brighten it up. Instead of going home he stayed at Hogwarts. Fortunately this year Potter and his friends weren’t around – they were going to Gimmauld Place. He hoped that Arthur Weasley would be well enough to join his family for Christmas following his attack by Nagini, Voldemort’s snake, whilst guarding the Hall of Prophecies. Snape had no particular dislike of Arthur but Voldemort hated him for his muggle loving views and had regretted that Nagini had not managed to kill him. It had been a close call for Arthur, and if not for Potter somehow being privy to Voldemort’s thoughts and actions, the Weasley family could be having a funeral instead of a Christmas celebration this year.

A few students had remained at Hogwarts. The house elves had produced a traditional dinner of turkey and all the trimmings and the meal was livened up with the sound of the excited voices of the students discussing the gifts they had received. Mealtimes were less formal during the holidays, Snape and a couple of junior staff who had been required to remain at Hogwarts during the holidays, sat on the same table as the students. One of the muggleborn students had brought in some Christmas crackers containing light bulb jokes and he read out the joke in his cracker, “How many jugglers does it take to change a light bulb? One, but it takes at least three light bulbs.” The muggleborn students laughed and Snape stifled a guffaw. The wizard raised students were perplexed and had to have the joke explained to them but once they understood the context they hooted with laughter too. 

Snape pulled his cracker with the teacher sitting next to him, he had no intention of putting on the ridiculous paper hat, but he read out the joke. “How many school teachers does it take to change a light bulb?” As soon as he started speaking the students fell silent out of habit, he looked gravely round the table and recited in his sonorous voice, “None. Anything not completed during the lesson is added to the homework.” He fixed the student opposite with a steely glare enjoying his discomfiture. He heard a quiet snigger further down the table and slowly turned his head to identify the owner, “Pritchard,” he said evenly, “It’s your turn to read out a joke.”

Pritchard nervously pulled the cracker with his neighbour and read out the joke, “How many wizards does it take to change a light bulb? It depends on what you want to change it into….” To the surprise of everyone present, Snape erupted into laughter and the happy atmosphere was restored. 

\--oOo--

A few days earlier Azalea had gone to Scrips and Co to get some urgently required healers herbs. Trainee healers were often asked to do this and Azalea had done her share of the errand - she enjoyed going. The doorbell jangled as she entered the shop, which was small and compact, shelves lined with jars and bottles containing all manner of ingredients and supplies for potion making. She imagined an old fashioned apothecary shop must have looked like this. Azalea knew the cosy shop front belied the vast scale of the Scrips undertaking - it was a major supplier to industry, commerce, education and hospitals. Mr Scrips was behind the counter today, he didn’t need to serve in the shop but he liked to maintain the personal touch. Azalea presented her St Mungo’s photo ID card which Mr Scrips compared to the one he had on record and she told him the current password. Once he was satisfied she was who she appeared to be she gave him a list of the urgent supplies she had come to collect. As he gathered together the items she wanted he chatted to her about whether she was ready for Christmas.

“Not quite,” she said, “I’ve been busy for the past few weeks,” she then added flippantly, “but since I’m in a potion shop have you got any suggestions about what to get the potions master who has everything?” She knew as soon as the words were out of her mouth that she’d spoken carelessly.

Mr Scrips paused and she sensed his alertness to her words. “Would that be Professor Snape the potion master at Hogwarts?” he asked casually.

“Yes,” she said seeing no point in lying now, Mr Scrips knew well enough that Azalea had spent time at Hogwarts, but she tried to cover her mistake. “He’s tutoring me for my NEWTs in his own time. So I thought I should get him a gift as a thank you.”

“Aren’t your tuition fees enough then?” enquired Mr Scrips.

Tuition fees? she thought. It had never occurred to her to offer Severus, Minerva or Filius any recompense for the time they spent tutoring her. None of them had ever asked for fees but how could she have been so selfish to not even offer? She would rectify that the next time she saw each of them. She replied to Mr Scrips, “This is extra to tuition fees.”

Mr Scrips recalled how flustered Severus had been when he’d asked him if had found himself a woman, although Severus had denied it. Mr Scrips took a long look at Azalea; she didn’t have the striking beauty of Lily Evans, with her red hair and emerald eyes, but Azalea was an attractive woman in an understated way. She had the same green eyes as Lily but everything else about her was softer - light brown hair, elfin shaped face, slim figure, and with her musical voice she was friendly and good natured – with none of the abrasiveness and sharp edges that Lily sometimes displayed. “I think I can make a few suggestions of items to get for him,” Mr Scrips told her. “He’s been a customer here for years although he doesn’t say much, quite taciturn really.”

“They say still waters run deep,” said Azalea in defence of Snape’s personality.

“Do they? Who says that?” enquired Mr Scrips never having heard the expression before.

“Muggles do, or at least they do where I come from.”

She was muggleborn then, not that Mr Scrips was concerned with ancestry but Snape was reputed to be a Death Eater and therefore should scorn the muggleborn. Lily had been muggleborn - Snape must have a weakness for muggleborn women with green eyes. 

“I don’t know if there’s a matching fluvial expression for chatty people like me,” Azalea continued, “it’s probably along the lines of shallow and superficial.”

“There’s “deep rivers move with silent majesty, shallow brooks are noisy,” supplied Mr Scrips.

“That’s one I’ve not heard before,” said Azalea.

“I wouldn’t say it applies to you,” said Mr Scrips “how about “when the river makes a sound you can be sure it’s carrying water”?”

“I think I prefer that one,” laughed Azalea. “I like idioms, there’s one for every scenario and you can choose the one you like best.”

Mr Scrips had got together the hospital items that Azalea had come in for and she signed the hospital’s account. “If you’ve got a few minutes I can get together a package of potion supplies that Professor Snape might like,” Mr Scrips said.

“Yes please,” said Azalea. Whilst she waited she wandered around the shop peering into the various containers and it struck how her life had changed so much in the past year. She now thought it perfectly normal to be in a shop selling magic potions, animal body parts and dried plants. She took magic for granted and when presented with a problem she thought about magical solutions before considering technological ones. She was enjoying her training at St Mungo’s, she felt as if she was giving something back to the magical community by her ability to help heal the sick and injured. She heard Mr Scrips came back into the shop and stopped her musings. 

“Would you like me to gift wrap these things for you?” he asked.

“No thanks,” she replied, “I have to do it in muggle wrapping paper - it’s a running joke.”

Mr Scrips raised his eyebrows but made no comment, he knew that Snape rarely received or gave presents and clearly this wasn’t first time she’d given Severus a gift. “I wonder if I could ask you a favour?” he asked and Azalea nodded. “I’ve got a present for Professor Snape too, would you give it to him at the same you give him yours?” he held out a package wrapped in wizard wrapping paper where the images moved.

“I’d be glad to,” she said taking the package. “This will double the number of Christmas presents he gets this year.” She paid for her goods, thanked him and left the shop. Mr Scrips smiled as she walked out of the door; if Severus had, indeed, fallen in love with her he couldn’t fault his choice. She seemed to be exactly the right person for him and he was for her.

\--oOo--

Back at Hogwarts, after the Christmas lunch was over, Snape returned to his chambers and picked up the two Christmas presents he had received but not yet opened, one was from Azalea and the other from Mr Scrips. It had been years since he had a Christmas present from Mr Scrips, he wondered what had prompted him to do it this year. Azalea had given them both to him at the end of term Christmas feast at Hogwarts. She had been invited to attend by Filius and the meal was merrier for her presence but he’d observed Umbridge eying her suspiciously as if drawing up some plot for this uppity muggle who intruded on a Hogwart’s tradition. When Azalea had given him the Christmas presents she had also offered to pay him tuition fees which he had roundly refused to accept. He found out later she’d made the same offer to Minerva and Filius who had also refused to accept payment. It must be a muggle trait to be so preoccupied with money. He had enough for his needs – why would he want more?

He decided to open up the gift from Azalea first, she had wrapped it muggle wrapping paper decorated with snowmen. He unwrapped it slowly, without her here to watch him there was no fun in ripping it apart in one movement. Inside was a selection of potion ingredients from Scrips and Co. He took the packets out one by one examining them closely; he could see Mr Scrips’ influence in the choices - now he understood why Mr Scrips had sent him a gift this year. He frowned at the thought of Azalea discussing their relationship with Mr Scrips – it seemed most unlikely. At the bottom of the container was something that had not been bought from Scrips. It was a model of a muggle car. He was not familiar with makes and models of cars but according to the label on the box this one was a Ferrari. He took it out of the packaging and saw it was the same type of vehicle that Azalea had stolen on that night a few weeks ago. Why had she given him something to remind him of that eventful night? There was nothing in the box to explain her reasoning. He put the car to one side and opened his second present - the one from Mr Scrips. Out fell a photograph of Azalea – he recognised it as the same one she had on her St Mungo’s identity badge. Mr Scrips had included a note to explain the reason for his choice of gift. “My Dear Friend, if I am wrong, then destroy the photograph. If not, then keep it with my congratulations on your excellent taste - the money for the fairy wings was well spent.” 

Snape stared at the photograph of Azalea, her image smiled out of it and she turned her head slightly to the side as if listening to someone out of view. The green of her healer’s robes reflected in her eyes made them seem greener than they actually were and reminded him of Lily. He was swept by a wave of longing and remorse, even after all these years. He stood up from the chair where he was seated, crossed the room to where his cloak was hanging and removed the photograph of Lily from his pocket. He returned to his seat and laid the photographs side by side studying in detail the features of the women he loved. The family resemblance was strong and any impartial observer would say that Lily was the more beautiful. But he was not impartial and never had been. He picked up the photograph of Azalea and Mr Scrips’ note and threw them both on the fire. He watched as the flames caught them, the orange flames licked up Azalea’s green robes and touched her face turning it grey until the paper shrivelled into brittle black ash and drifted up the chimney.

\--oOo--

Azalea spent Christmas day working at St Mungo’s – somebody had to - people didn’t stop needing medical attention just because it was Christmas. She was most of the way through her shift and was taking a break. She sat at a table in the canteen staring into the bottom of an empty cup of coffee. She felt someone stand by her table, looking up she saw it was Charity. Azalea gave her friend a smile and invited her sit down. “What are you doing here on Christmas day?” Azalea enquired.

“I’ve come to meet Julius, my son. His shift finishes soon and then we’re going round to his fiancée’s for Christmas dinner. I’ve never met her family but she’s a nice girl,” Charity said. “What are your plans for Christmas?”

“I’ve still got a couple of hours before I finish, then I shall go back to my own house in Stevenage. One of my lodgers has left so there's always a room for me now. I’ve been staying with a friend in London since I started at St Mungo’s but he’s got a houseful this Christmas,” Azalea told her.

“Surely you’re not spending the entire holiday on your own are you?” asked Charity.

“No, I’m working for most of it. I’ve got tomorrow off and I’m seeing some of my muggle friends, I’m looking forward to catching up,” Azalea said slightly distracted.

“You seem a bit sad, Leah. Is everything all right?” Charity said worriedly.

Azalea gave a faint smile, “I’m OK really. It’s just that I lost a patient today, it’s the first time one of mine has died.”

“Oh Leah, I am sorry,” Charity said. At that point a young friendly looking man in healer’s robes approached them and Charity exclaimed “Julius!” She stood up and gave him a hug. “Do you know Azalea?” she asked him.

Azalea had seen him around but never spoken to him; St Mungo’s was a large place and she hadn’t been there long enough to meet everyone. “No,” he replied, “but I’ve heard all about you. Mum was always singing your praises when she worked with you at Hogwarts and you’re already making a bit of a name for yourself here.”

Azalea blushed, “After today I expect my name won’t be so good,” she commented.

“Why, what happened?” Julius asked as he sat down at the table with them.

“One of her patients died,” Charity explained.

Julius looked at Azalea with understanding, “Is it the first one you’ve lost?”

“Yes.” Azalea said quietly.

“Azalea, we’ve all been through that, I’m afraid it comes with the job. We can’t save everyone and for some people it’s simply their time,” he said sympathetically.

“I know,” Azalea said, “but it doesn’t make it any easier. The patient who died - he was lovely and so cheerful even up to the end. He told me not to be sad for him, he was going to be reunited with his wife and that I was to find other people to help who needed me more than he did.”

“In a way he was right,” said Julius, “we must focus on those we can save and not dwell on those we lose. All anyone asks is that a healer does their best for their patients.”

Azalea smiled at Julius for his understanding and over his shoulder she saw Augustus Pye, one of the other trainee healers coming towards the table. She often discussed with Augustus the differences between muggle and wizard medical practices. “Hello Gus,” she said as he got closer, “if you’re on a break I suppose that means mine is almost over.”

“Yes and Healer Smethwyck has told me to send to you to see him at Mr Weasley’s room.”

Julius observed, “You’d best go straight away Azalea, Healer Smethwyck doesn’t like to be kept waiting, especially by trainees.”

“No rest for the wicked,” said Azalea as she stood up to go. She wished Charity and Julius a happy Christmas and headed for Arthur’s room.

“Hello Arthur, how are you doing?” she said breezily when she arrived in his room. 

She heard a voice say severely, “He’d be doing a lot better if didn’t let trainees experiment on him with muggle techniques.” Arthur looked sheepish and Azalea shot him a questioning look as Healer Smethwyck appeared from behind the curtain surrounding the bed. 

“Which muggle technique is that?” asked Azalea.

“Stitches!” said Healer Smethwyck in outrage.

“They work on muggles,” Azalea said reasonably, “wizards and muggles are both human so I don’t see why they wouldn’t work.”

The Healer explained, “If it was a straightforward physical injury caused by a knife for example, I would agree with you. However, Mr Weasley was bitten by a large magical venomous snake and we need to find an antidote to the venom before we can stitch up the wound.”

“I see,” said Azalea. “You sent for me. How can I help?”

“I’m told,” said Healer Smethwyck, “that you can see magic.”

“Yes,” confirmed Azalea, and she noticed Arthur react in surprise.

The Healer continued, “Would you look at Mr Weasley’s injury and tell me how far the venom has spread.”

Azalea helped Arthur to remove his shirt and she undid the bandage around his chest. Underneath were two deep and wide puncture marks where the snake’s fangs had bitten into him. The neatly sewn stitches had almost dissolved away and the bite marks showed up red and livid against Arthur’s pale skin. Azalea could clearly see the magic in the venom, it was like dark veins leading away from the site of the injury. She recognised Voldemort’s mark in this, his magic had a type of fingerprint which had seen before when he cut Severus as a punishment. She described what she could see to Healer Smethwyck. “The heaviest concentration is around the fang marks,” she said, “but there are threads leading away towards the heart. It looks as though it has been contained near the injury but is now spreading. Did you find any antidote to treat it?”

“It’s a type of venom I’ve not seen before. We’ve taken a sample and given it to our potion makers to find or create an antidote but so far they haven’t been successful. In the meantime, I’ve been treating it with a general anti-venom potion.”

“It looks like the venom is becoming resistant to the anti-venoms and is starting to spread. There is a muggle technique which involves drawing out venom, it’s usually done as first aid before the patient gets to hospital. I could do that to reduce the amount of venom in Arthur’s body and that should give the potion makers more time to come up with an antidote.”

Healer Smethwyck was aware that wizard healers also knew about drawing poisons out of a patient’s body but it was risky because the drawing out of the venom could make it spread it further and quicker, which was why antidotes were the first line of treatment. Azalea would also know it was a wizard treatment and he admired her tactic of getting the patient interested by describing it as a muggle technique. “I think that is worth a try but we must ask Mr Weasley if he’s willing to take the risk,” Healer Smethwyck said. 

Arthur was agreeable to Azalea treating him and he also agreed to an anaesthetic when advised the process could be painful. Healer Smethwyck administered the anaesthetic because Azalea was still not qualified to do so. Azalea took a poultice, similar to the one she had used on Severus, and applied it to Arthur’s wound. She hadn’t been entirely honest with either the Healer or Arthur, it wasn’t just the venom she was removing but also the dark magic that it was contaminated with. She muttered the incantation and concentrated on drawing up the venom and dark magic into the poultice. The dark magic didn’t seem to fight her as much as it had when she’d done the same treatment on Severus. Perhaps it was because Voldermort’s magic had been delivered second hand via the snake and so had been weakened. However, as the wound had been inflicted several days ago the dark magic had spread further than the curse she had treated Severus for, despite the Healer’s attempts to treat it with anti-venoms. She continued until she believed she could draw no more out through the original wounds in Arthur’s chest. She stopped working, threw the poultice into a bag for safe disposal, she stepped back and looked critically over Arthur.

Healer Smethwyck spoke first, “I think that worked, his looking less pale and the area around where the fangs entered is a more normal colour.”

“I don’t think it’s all out,” Azalea said, “I can still see traces of the venom but it’s too far away from the point of entry for me to drag it back that way. We would need to make more cuts closer to the remaining venom.”

“That’s enough for today,” the Healer said, “if you try to do too much in one go you could send the patient into shock.” Azalea stiffened at his words, she hadn’t known that piece of information and she shuddered at the thought that she could have killed Severus when she’d treated all his cuts and the curse in one session. Healer Smethwyck was looking at Arthur and hadn’t noticed Azalea’s reaction, he continued speaking, “We’ll monitor Mr Weasley’s progress and if we need to treat him again then we will. In the meantime we’ll continue with an alternative generic anti-venom and hope that the potion makers come up with a bespoke antidote.”

“I hope they do,” said Azalea, “I have a feeling we may need it again in the coming months.”


	50. Sorry isn't the Hardest Word

Azalea sat in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place chatting to Sirius and Molly, the teenagers were upstairs making the most of the last two days of the Christmas holidays before they had to return to school. Azalea had kept herself occupied during the holidays with work; visiting her muggle friends; studying the subjects for her NEWTS and practicing the control techniques that Dumbledore has taught her. Her increasing confidence in being able to control her power and the passage of time since the frozen soul incident had led her to forgive Severus although she hadn’t yet told him so. It had been his birthday recently and instead of giving him his card and gift in person she’d sent them by owl being unsure how she would tell him she was sorry. It should be an easy thing to do but she kept procrastinating, just as she was doing now by spending time with Sirius and Molly, instead of mending her relationship with the man she loved.

The doorbell sounded and Molly said she’d answer it. While she was gone Sirius and Azalea continued their conversation. They heard the front door slam and then the strident ranting of Mrs Black’s portrait began, “Blood traitors! Half-bloods! You’re not welcome in my house!” 

Azalea stood up “I’ll go and shut her up,” she said.

Sirius grabbed her by the hand to stop her leaving, “Don’t bother,” he said “whoever it is should know better than to slam the door and set her off.”

They heard footsteps descending the stairs into the kitchen and both turned to see who it was. Snape appeared followed by Molly. “Severus,” Azalea said in confusion as she withdrew her hand from Sirius’s hold, “we weren’t expecting you today.”

“So I see,” he said darkly having seen Azalea’s movement. “I hope haven’t interrupted anything” he paused fractionally, “I shouldn’t have seen.”

“No, not at all,” Azalea replied sitting down again and moving away from Sirius. “Why are you here?” she asked.

“I’ve come to see Potter,” he said curtly.

“Harry?” Azalea asked in surprise.

“Is there another Potter here that has escaped my notice?” he said sarcastically. 

Molly said “I’ll go and get him,” and fled the room. 

The room became silent after Molly left. To fill the gap Azalea said, “Why don’t you sit down?” and indicated a seat at the end of the table. Snape moved slowly and purposefully to the space and sat down glaring at Sirius and ignoring Azalea. He had come readily on this errand to speak to Potter when he could just as easily sent the information by owl or told him when school started, but he had hoped to see Azalea. What he had not expected to see was her holding Black’s hand and his hopeful mood turned bitter.

The silence deepened and the two men were studiously staring in opposite directions when Harry came in. 

“Sit down Potter,” ordered Snape.

“You know,” said Sirius, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t give orders here, Snape. It’s my house, you see.”

Harry sat down next to Sirius. Snape said, “I was supposed to see you alone, Potter, but Black…”

“I’m his godfather,” said Sirius.

Azalea, uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going, interjected “and I’m his cousin.”

For the first time since he’d arrived Snape looked directly at Azalea then looked away again saying, “I am here on Dumbledore’s orders, but by all means stay Black, I know you like to feel…. involved.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” demanded Sirius.

“Yes, what’s that supposed to mean?” Azalea echoed.

“Merely that I am sure you must feel – ah – frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing useful for the Order.”

Sirius flushed and Azalea glared at Snape who smirked before speaking to Harry, “The headmaster has sent me to tell you Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term.”

While Snape explained to Harry what Occlumency was and stressed the need for secrecy, Azalea’s attention was divided between the two of them. “Who’s going to be teaching me?” Harry asked.

“I am,” Snape replied.

Azalea saw the horrified look that crossed Harry’s face and he looked towards Sirius for support. “Why can’t Dumbledore teach Harry?” asked Sirius “Why you?”

“Professor Snape is highly accomplished at occlumency,” Azalea said to Harry and Sirius in support of Dumbledore’s decision and of Severus’ skill, but Severus did not want her help.

“I suppose it is a headmaster’s privilege to delegate the less enjoyable tasks. I assure you I did not beg for the job.” He rose to leave. “I will expect you at six o’clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anyone asks you are taking Remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my class could deny you need them.”

“Wait a moment,” said Sirius.

Snape turned to face him, still avoiding Azalea’s look of anger directed towards him. “I am in rather a hurry Black… unlike you I do not have unlimited leisure time…”

“I’ll get the point then,” said Sirius standing up, “if I hear that you’re using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you’ll have me to answer to.”

^^And me^^ Azalea projected into Severus’ mind, he stiffened, so she knew he’d heard her.

“How touching,” Snape sneered. “But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?”

“Yes I have,” said Sirius. Azalea glanced over at Snape wondering where he was going with this.

“Well then, you’ll know he’s so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him,” Snape said sleekly.

Sirius strode round the table towards Snape, both men had drawn their wands and were squaring up to each other.

“Sirius!” said Harry loudly.

^^Severus!^^ Azalea shouted into Snape’s mind.

Neither man appeared not to have heard. When he was within a foot of Snape Sirius growled, “I’ve warned you Snivellus, I don’t care if Dumbledore thinks you’ve reformed, I know better……”

“Oh, but why don’t you tell him so?” whispered Snape, “Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother’s house for six months very seriously.”

“Tell me,” responded Sirius, “how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he’s delighted his lapdog’s working at Hogwarts, isn’t he?”

“Speaking of dogs,” said Snape softly, “did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognised you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform …. gave you a cast iron excuse not to leave your hidey hole in future, didn’t it?”

Sirius raised his wand. Harry and Azalea exchanged despairing glances as Harry yelled “NO!” and vaulted over the table. 

“Are you calling me a coward?” Sirius roared.

“Why yes I suppose I am,” said Snape.

“ENOUGH!” yelled Azalea and with a gesture both men’s wands were torn from their hands and clattered on the kitchen floor. Holding out her arms towards the two men she lifted them both into the air and slammed them into opposite walls of the kitchen holding them up by the ceiling. Her eyes were blazing and heavily flecked with red sparks. Harry stood open mouthed he’d never seen Azalea like this. “What’s wrong with the pair of you?” she demanded, “I swear you’ll be the death of me. You’re acting like children. Why don’t you just grow up and start acting like men? How can you possibly fight Voldemort when you’re wasting energy fighting each other? You’re losing sight of who the real enemy is. It’s not him,” she said looking at Severus and pointing at Sirius, “and it’s not him,” she said moving her gaze to Sirius and pointing at Snape.

“Well I’m so not sure about that” muttered Sirius.

“Well I am and so is Dumbledore,” Azalea retorted. “Now, do you both understand me?” Snape and Sirius continued to glare at each other across the room and Azalea tightened her grip and started to exert pressure on their throats. “Well do you?” she hissed.

Snape and Sirius began to struggle for breath and grabbed at something invisible around their throats. Harry looked on worriedly, “Leah,” he said by way of warning and pointing at the two men gasping for breath.

Azalea’s attention snapped back to Harry and she realised what she was doing, relaxing her hold on their throats she repeated the question, “Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” they both mumbled.

She released the men, gently floating them back to the floor where they had started from, standing a couple of feet from each other with Harry in between and his arms outstretched. With a flick of her fingers she returned their wands to their hands and apparated herself out of the kitchen.

As soon as she left, the kitchen door opened and in walked the Weasley family and Hermione. They stopped in shock at the tableau in front of them - Sirius and Snape looking towards the door with their wands pointing in each other’s faces and Harry immobile between them, a hand stretched out to each of them as if trying to force them apart.

Snape returned his wand to his pocket and swept out of the room, at the door he looked back “Six o’clock Monday evening Potter,” and he was gone.

Snape exited the house through the front door and stomped across the road towards the central square. That meeting had gone nothing like he’d planned. He’d intended to tell Potter about the occlumency lessons calmly and professionally and then find an excuse to speak Azalea. Instead he’d allowed his feelings to overcome him; his dislike of Black and his jealously at seeing Azalea holding Black’s hand. For someone who had just been described as highly accomplished at occlumency he had hardly demonstrated his ability. 

At the edge of the grassed area in the square was an old tree and as he walked past it he heard someone call his name, “Severus.” He paused and looked around him, aware there was someone standing under the tree, its leafless winter branches offering little in the way of shelter. A shadowy figure blended into the trunk detached itself. He would know that voice and that figure anywhere – Azalea. He stepped towards her and she towards him. She looked up at him and he could see in the moonlight that her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for having a go at you just now and for nearly strangling you. I’m sorry for the way I reacted about the frozen soul potion. I’m sorry for the way I treated you when I was affected. I’m sorry for ignoring you for weeks. I’m sorry you ever met me.” 

He stared down at her, all manner of words coming to his mind but the only ones which made it out of his mouth were “I’m leaving now.” He turned on his heels and walked away. He hadn’t gone more than a few steps when he turned round again, she remained where she had been standing forlornly watching him go. He rushed back to her, “and you’re coming with me.” He swept his arms around her and apparated them both to his house in Spinners End. 

They appeared in the lounge of his house, he had spent the last few days here and the room held some residual warmth from the fire which had now gone out. With a few movements of his wand he cleaned out the fire grate, restacked it and lit it. “Why are we here?” asked Azalea.

“Because I brought us here,” he replied.

Azalea sighed, he was in his pedantic mood. “Why did you bring us here?” she clarified.

“To talk. In private. Without interruption.”

“Well let’s start with your behaviour at Grimmauld Place this evening.” Azalea said hotly, “You were awful to Sirius. It’s not his fault he can’t be more active with the Order and you rubbing it in didn’t help. It wouldn’t surprise me if he goes and does something reckless now.”

“I did warn him that his dog disguise is no longer effective,” Snape retorted.

“Yes but you did it in a roundabout, insulting way and you accused him of being a coward.”

“It wasn’t my intention to accuse him of cowardice that’s the way he interpreted it. I saw no point in disabusing him of his assumption.” Snape said defensively.

“There’s a muggle saying that if you can’t say anything nice then don’t say anything at all. I think perhaps you should bear that in mind next time you meet Sirius” Azalea advised him.

“I could do that but make sure you tell him the same thing.”

Azalea sighed, “All right I will.”

“Good I don’t want to talk about Black any more, let’s change the subject. You said you were sorry for many things. Are you sorry that you hate me?” he asked trying to goad her into a full reconciliation.

She reacted in the way he hoped she would. “I don’t hate you, I love you.”

“Why then are you sorry that I ever met you?”

“Because your life has been complicated since I met you. Because I have done unkind things to you. Because I’m not Lily. You’d be better off if you’d never met me,” she said contritely.

“Maybe so,” he admitted, “but I have met you and I wouldn’t change that now. I forgive you for the unkind things you’ve done, even trying to strangle me tonight, because all the good things you’ve brought to my life far outweigh the bad. As for you not being Lily, I’m glad you’re not her. She would never have loved me the way you do.” He paused before saying, “Why did you mention Lily?”

“The photograph,” Azalea said pointing to the pocket of his cloak. “I found it that day in the park.”

Snape smiled at the memory and pulled the photograph from his pocket, “This photograph you mean?” he asked. She nodded. “Now, if you’d put your hand in the other pocket you would have found this.” He reached into the other pocket and produced a red Swiss army knife. “I carry it with me all the time.” He stood in front of her and pulled out a purple amulet on a chain hanging around her neck, “I notice you always wear this amulet.” 

Azalea had only put it back on in the past couple of days after a period of not wearing it. “It’s just a pendant,” she said defensively.

“And this is just a knife,” he replied, “I have other knives, you have other pendants. We both know why we treasure these above all others.” Azalea regarded him with a frank expression in her green eyes and he knew he’d struck a chord with her, he pushed home his advantage. “I’m opening my mind to you,” he said, dropping his mental shields, “use your Legimancy skills to see what I say is true.” 

She accepted his invitation and could see he was completely sincere.

“As for the photograph,” he explained, “it serves two purposes. Firstly, you gave it to me and when I look at it I am reminded of you as well as Lily. Secondly, I don’t always find it easy to do the task Dumbledore has given to me, when I find myself starting to flag or to doubt or to fear, I look at this picture to remind me of my purpose and to give me the strength to carry on.” He looked once again into her eyes and spoke some more, “Leah, you know I loved Lily and I probably always will, just as I know that Edward will always have a piece of your heart that will never be mine. Our first loves can no longer be with us but by extreme good fortune we have found each other. I never want to lose you Leah, I love you and I’m sorry for the things I’ve done to you and I will never hurt you again.”

“I love you too Severus and I never want to hurt you again,” she said quietly.

They stood in silence close to one another not quite touching. Being unsure where to take the conversation now Severus said casually, “Arthur Weasley came out of hospital today, he arrived at Grimmauld Place just as I left.”

“Did he?” said Azalea brightly, “I knew he was due to leave soon. I’ve been helping with his treatment. I removed the venom from his injury. My healing skills have improved and Arthur won’t have a scar like you do,” she said and put her hand over the location of the scar on Severus’ chest. 

At the touch of her hand, even through two layers of clothing, Severus’s body suddenly burned with desire for her. He hadn’t had sex since the night of the frozen soul incident and although he had gone without sex for long periods of time he had become accustomed to making love with Azalea and missed it as part of missing her. He decided to take a chance, “Do you need to check my scars?” he asked mischievously. She understood the reference at once and he saw love and lust reflected in her face in equal measures.

“I believe I do,” she answered grinning broadly.

They leaned in to kiss which soon became passionate and they fumbled urgently with their clothes, until, becoming impatient, Severus removed them with a flourish of his wand before casting it to one side to concentrate on the needs of his body and giving pleasure to the woman in his arms. 

“Severus,” Azalea gasped “feel what I feel,” she mind merged with him to share her sensations and to let him know how much pleasure he gave her. He was overwhelmed by the experience, he could feel physical sensations in parts of the body he didn’t even have. He returned the mind merge and she felt what he felt. They were both in raptures over the double sensations of jointly experiencing orgasms, they truly were one mind and one body. Sex with anyone else would for ever be a lonely experience. The shudders of their lovemaking ceased and they lay gasping on the floor in front of the fire, “That was incredible,” Azalea said in awe, “we must do it that way again.”

Severus hugged her close, “give me a few minutes!”

\--oOo--

Snape started the new term in a buoyant mood, not even the thought of giving private occlumency lessons to Potter was enough to dampen his spirits on that first day. He’d had the best sexual experience of his life (more than once – just to be sure), Azalea still loved him: - it was Dumbledore who’d been helping her control her power – not Black as he’d thought. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions where that man and Azalea were concerned, but he couldn’t help believing that Black was in love with Azalea, however much she dismissed the suggestion. Why shouldn’t he be? She was a beautiful, wonderful woman but it was Snape whose love she returned and he finally had something that Black could never take from him. 

On Monday evening Snape waited in his office for Potter who arrived on time, most students did for appointments with Snape. Potter was woefully ignorant about the subjects of occlumency and legilmency, at least Azalea had read up about them before she learnt the techniques. Potter could have asked Grainger, she was bound to have known. He told Potter about the basics of occlumency and legilmency, which Potter, like a typical muggle, assumed was mind reading. When Potter wanted to know more about why he needed to learn occlumency Snape had considered how much to tell him, how much Dumbledore would want Potter to know. He stared at Potter trying to decide what information he should pass on. Snape reasoned that as Dumbledore had delegated the task to him it was his decision. What Dumbledore didn’t know was that it was Snape who had hinted to Voldemort that there was a mental connection between him and Potter - the Dark Lord would have eventually worked it out for himself. He had tested out the theory when Nagini attacked Arthur Weasley and it proved to be correct. Once more Snape had risen in Voldemort’s estimation as a loyal follower. Snape knew he could do no less that tell Potter all he the information he had about the connection between the boy and the Dark Lord and so he warned him of the possibility that Voldemort might try to make him do things. 

Snape finished the discussion and moved on to the purpose of the lesson, to teach occlumency. Without offering Potter any explanation, Snape pointed his wand at his head, removed some silver thread of memories from his mind and placed them in a pensieve which was on his desk. There were two ways that memories could be removed, either a copy is made or the entire memory is taken from the mind. The former technique was more common because the original memory is retained. However, today Snape removed entire memories from his mind in case Potter either intentionally or accidentally managed to see those memories. Mostly they were about his relationship with Azalea, he did not want some teenage peeping Tom prying into his private life or being a voyeur into his sex life. At the last minute he decided to add some memories about how Snape had been treated at school by Potter’s father and the time where Snape had ruined his relationship with Lily. Once the memories were out he would forget everything but he would remember that he had removed them so he could put them back. Without those memories he felt strangely empty as if the defining moments of his life had never happened.

Potter proved to be slightly better at occlumency than Snape had expected him to be but he needed to learn control and not give in to his emotions. Snape was slightly unsettled at some of Potter’s memories; he had been tormented by his cousin and uncle, the sight of hundreds of dementors closing in on him, the death of Cedric Diggory. It had been a memory of Cho Chang under the mistletoe that had given Potter the impetus to force Snape from his mind, but by using his wand not the strength of his mind. Snape remembered he had a similar memory he would protect. At the end of the session Potter had been recalling the time when Arthur had been injured when he suddenly realised that the Department of Mysteries was central to the visions that he had been experiencing. Snape had stopped the legilimens spell instantly and tried to play down the significance of the Department of Mysteries. He urged Potter to empty his mind of emotions and calm himself before sleeping, advice he thought Potter would find difficult to take. The boy’s lack of control over his own emotions could end up sealing his fate. 

As Potter left, Snape went to the pensieve and put back the memories he had removed, thoughts of Azalea flooded back into his mind and he felt whole again. 

At breakfast the next day, as Snape walked to his table to have breakfast he overheard, Grainger, Potter and Weasley discussing the headline in the Daily Prophet was about the escape of ten prisoners - all former Death Eaters – from Azkaban. The Minister for Magic suggested that Sirius Black had masterminded the escape and was a rallying point for the escapees. As Snape passed them he stopped held out his hand and demanded that they pass the paper to him. Grainger reluctantly handed it over. Snape quickly read the article then returned the paper to Grainger saying curtly, “From my knowledge of Black I find it hard to believe he had the intelligence or the ability to organise something like this.” Potter scowled at him, Snape stared him down and continued the walk to his table feeling oddly proud that his own intelligence had led to the successful break out from Azkaban and that now Voldemort would trust him even more.


	51. More than a Memory

The year started for Snape and Azalea in a routine of work and seeing each other as often as they could. Soon after the beginning of term Azalea was in the potion classroom at Hogwarts making a potion as practice for the practical exam she would have to take later in the year. Severus sat at the teacher’s desk marking some of his students’ homework and planning lessons for later that week. They worked in companionable silence for an hour or so when a thought struck Azalea.

“Severus,” she asked. “When I do the actual practical for the NEWTS will the exam be limited to potions that can be made in under 3 hours?” He shot a questioning look and she explained further. “Some potions have particular ways of being made, you know things like using freshly collected dew on a winter’s morning, leaving the potion to marinate for 3 days, or stirring it widdershins under a full moon while dancing naked around the cauldron” she said flippantly.

He raised his eyebrows and said in mock seriousness “I’m not aware that nudity is a requirement of potion making.”

Azalea flashed into his mind an image of the two of them dancing naked around a cauldron under a full moon on a warm summer’s night. Severus smiled at her, the smile she loved, the one that lit up his face and made his eyes turn soft and gentle, the one that made her go weak at the knees. “I rather think we’d be doing a different type of dance in that scenario,” he said suggestively. This time it was Azalea’s turn to smile, it was a smile just for him, a smile that reminded him that she loved him and made him feel the luckiest man on earth. His voice turned serious, “In reply to your original question, you are correct that many potions take considerably longer than 3 hours to make. You might be given a part made potion and instructions on how to complete it.”

“I can make any potion in under three hours,” she said, “using my quicker method.”

“You will not use your quicker method in the exam,” he said, “it would be cheating and unfair to the other students.”

“I know, I won’t use it, honestly,” she said.

At that moment the door to the classroom opened, Snape looked down the room to see who had entered. Azalea saw by the slightest narrowing of his eyes that he wasn’t pleased to see the visitor. Most people wouldn’t have noticed any change in his expression but Azalea was so attuned to his moods nothing about him escaped her. She turned in her seat to see who had come into the classroom and saw the squat figure of Dolores Umbridge walk up to Snape’s desk. He stood up and stepped around to the front of the desk to speak to her. Whilst not a tall man, he loomed over Umbridge but she was not intimidated. 

“Professor Snape,” she said in her high pitched voice, incongruous with her physical appearance, “I saw the light on in the classroom and heard voices, I thought I should come in and check that there weren’t any students up to no good.”

“I thank you for your concern but as you can see all is in order here,” replied Snape and made to return to his seat. Umbridge looked around the classroom and seemed to notice Azalea for the first time. 

“What are you doing here?” she said to Azalea, “you are not a student at Hogwarts.”

“Miss Bennett is here at my invitation,” said Snape and returned slowly towards Umbridge, “I am tutoring her for her NEWT in potions.”

“You’re giving private lessons,” said Umbridge making it sound like something lewd, “here in Hogwarts?”

“I have the headmaster’s permission,” replied Snape ignoring the inference of her tone, “and it is in my own time. My duty to the Hogwarts’ students is unaffected.”

“I see that you are, however, using the potion supplies intended for Hogwarts students, in these ..um.. private lessons,” Umbridge said in a manner which made Azalea’s skin crawl. 

“The ingredients are from my own supplies,” Snape lied. 

“Really?” responded Umbridge stepping forwards and was now standing very close to Snape. Azalea knew he didn’t like people to invade his personal space and he must be feeling very uncomfortable by her proximity. Umbridge, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying his discomfiture. Azalea felt a basic emotional response to the threat of another woman towards her man. She strode to stand next to Snape, much closer than she normally stood when in public. “Yes really,” Azalea said loudly and took a large step towards Umbridge forcing her to move backwards and out of Snape’s personal space. “Are you suggesting that Professor Snape is lying?” Azalea said threateningly with flicker of red in her eyes.

Umbridge was caught in Azalea’s gaze and for a second was unable to look away but it was enough for Azalea to perform legilimancy and deduce that Umbridge was a ruthless, self-serving power seeker. “No,” said Umbridge regaining her confidence, “I’m sure the Professor is an honest man. But as High Inquisitor of Hogwarts it is within my authority to ban all teachers from giving private tuition,” she said maliciously, “whether or not it is done in their own time or with their own supplies.” With that parting shot she left the room.

“I don’t like that woman,” said Azalea heatedly. “I suppose that means I can no longer have my lessons with you, Filius and Minerva.”

“It won’t stop me, neither, I suspect, will it stop Filius and Minerva, but why did you intervene? It is possible that she would have just left if you’d said nothing? She may not have even noticed you.”

“Maybe, but she’s noticed me now. She’s already noticed you.” Azalea said. “I think she’s dangerous, Severus, please watch yourself around her.”

“Don’t worry about me, Leah, we all watch our step and our words when she’s around.”

Despite having been banned from tutoring Azalea, all three of Azalea’s teachers continued to do so, but they no longer held the class at Hogwarts. Azalea had completed her latest practical potions lesson at Severus’ house one Saturday night in March and they were now in the post coital glow of another sort of practical session. Azalea lay with her head on Severus chest and listened to his heart beat and the sound of his breathing. After a while she lifted herself up on one elbow and looked into his face, his beautiful dark brown eyes were fixed on a point in the middle distance. She leant over so she was in his line of vision and said quietly, “Is there something wrong, darling, you seen a little pre-occupied?”

He refocused his eyes to look at her. He loved to hear her use endearments – it was something his parents had never done and it made him feel valued and wanted. “No, I’m fine,” he replied.

“No you’re not,” she asserted. “I know you well enough to recognise when something is troubling you. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s Harry,” he said thinking it might be helpful to discuss his concerns with someone else and who better than with Azalea.

Azalea noticed he said Harry rather than Potter which alerted her to the depth of his concern. “Is this something to do with the occlumency lessons?”

“Yes.”

“How’s he getting on?”

“He’s not as good as you were, sometimes he shows flashes of competence. In fact, on a couple of occasions he’s broken through my defences and seen things I’d rather he had not seen.”

“What things?” asked Azalea out of curiosity.

“My childhood, images of my parents fighting, me locked up alone in my bedroom when I was a teenager, being laughed at on my first attempt to ride a broomstick.”

“That’s not so bad is it? It seems to me that the two of you have had similar childhood experiences surely you can sympathise with each other?”

“It’s not so much that he broke into my memories – it’s the way he did it. He used a shield charm rather than the legilimency techniques that I’m trying to teach him. On another occasion he stopped me from seeing his thoughts by the use of a stinging hex and not by closing his mind to me.”

“If it works does it matter?” asked Azalea.

Severus sat up and fixed her with a disappointed look, “Of course it matters,” he said sharply. “The purpose of the training is to always be ready with a tried and tested technique that comes to your aid instantly and without thought. There won’t be time to invent new ways, which may or may not work, when the Dark Lord is accessing his mind.” Severus had a look close to despair on his face as he continued, “and for all the time we’ve spent training the incursions by the Dark Lord seem to be getting more frequent. If anything the training is making him worse not better. He lacks discipline and allows his emotions to take over.”

“Harry is a fifteen year old boy,” Azalea reminded him, “He’s only just learning the power of emotions; you know what teenagers are like, hormones all over the place. How old were you when you learnt occlumency?”

“About 21, Dumbledore taught me, shortly after Lily died.”

“And I was 32. We were adults and should have already learnt more control over our emotions.”

“That might explain some of Potter’s problems but the connection Potter has with the Dark Lord seems to deny the normal protection an occlumens can give himself, even one as poor in the technique as Potter.” Snape said.

Azalea, who by now had sat up in the bed next to him, suddenly had an idea. “May be it is a different type of connection,” she said. “You and I are able to telepathically link to each other, share our emotions and project images. I’m not able to do that with anybody else, are you?”

“No, only with you.”

“Is it common among wizards to be able to do that? Is it something that only lovers or soulmates can do?” 

“Not as far as I know.”

“Then why can we do it?”

“I do have a theory,” Severus said. “I think it’s related to the bee attack when we were children. Dumbledore told me that the bees were magna honey bees and had a reputation to be able to increase a wizard’s power especially if they were stung as children before their magic abilities manifested themselves. There was a risk that a child’s magic ability could be delayed by years or a risk that they would never attain their magic and the person grew up to be a squib.”

“Well,” said Azalea thoughtfully, “that might explain why my powers didn’t appear until I was an adult but why weren’t you and Lily affected, you were both stung too? Also it doesn’t explain why you and Lily couldn’t communicate telepathically.”

“I have a theory about that too,” responded Severus, “I think it might have needed the attempt at legilimancy to trigger the telepathic ability and I never tried legilimancy with Lily. As to whether or not the bee stings increased mine and Lily’s powers, it is possible that they did: we both improved significantly at Hogwarts after that.”

“All the same, these theories don’t explain the link between Harry and Voldemort. I’m certain Harry’s never been stung by the magna honey bee,” said Azalea.

“I know, but I’m sure it has something to do with Potter’s scar, every time he has a vision from the Dark Lord the scar hurts. At the last lesson Potter experienced something that could only have come from the Dark Lord. I’ve shouted and urged Potter to practice occlumency. How can I protect him or teach him to protect himself if he won’t even try?” Severus said in exasperation.

“Maybe this connection between Harry and the Dark Lord is beyond the protection even a skilled occlumens could do. If I wanted to, Severus, I could force my way into your mind using our telepathic link and there’s nothing you could do to stop me. Perhaps it’s the same with Harry and Voldemort, especially as the link only seems to be one way.”

“You could really do that?” Severus asked quietly.

“Yes, but I never would except in a dire emergency, or if I lost my soul again,” she said glancing across at him.

“That will never happen again at my hands. I promise,” he assured her.

“I believe you. But back to Harry, does Voldemort know that Harry can share his thoughts? asked Azalea.

“Yes he does,” Severus told her.

“Then it’s possible for him to feed Harry false images.”

"Yes, he could,” agreed Severus.

“We need to warn Harry not to believe everything he gets from Voldemort,” said Azalea.

“How would Potter know the difference between what was real and what was false?” he asked.

“That’s why we’re here to help him and help him we must. We should do it because it’s the right thing to do. Never mind that he’s my cousin or Lily’s son, he just a boy who has been marked for death by a madman. We owe it to him and the future of the wizard world to give him all the help we can.”

“I know and I will but I find it so difficult at times, I don’t think I will ever like the boy.”

Azalea touched Severus’ arm, “You don’t have to like him - you just have to help him, but don’t let your dislike of him get in the way of doing the right thing.”

“I’ll try not to,” he said and at the time he meant it.

\--oOo—

Three weeks later Snape’s good intentions went awry. The previous week had been eventful, Dumbledore had disappeared after Umbridge had discovered the self-styled Dumbledore’s Army practising Defence Against the Dark Arts skills. The headmaster had claimed that the students had been doing it on his orders, something which Snape knew to be untrue. Following Dumbledore’s departure Umbridge had appointed herself Headmistress of Hogwarts. The day afterwards there had been a commotion in the school buildings when Fred and George Weasley had set off a spectacular display of fireworks. Like the other teachers, Snape had reacted slowly to help Umbridge sort out the situation. He had a sneaking admiration for the Weasley twins and thought Umbridge deserved all she got. 

The following day he had an occlumency lesson with Potter. Snape knew that before Dumbledore had left, he had exhorted Potter to continue with the lessons and do exactly as Professor Snape instructed. Potter was uncharacteristically late which Snape remarked upon as he removed his memories into the pensieve. The lesson had barely started when they were interrupted by Draco barging into the office, Snape would have to remind him about the need to knock (but not in front of Potter). Draco informed Snape that Montague (a member of Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad) who had disappeared a few days ago when the Weasley twins had shoved him into a vanishing cabinet, had turned up and Umbridge needed his help. Snape didn’t want to antagonise Umbridge by refusing her request, so he told Potter the lesson would be postponed until the next day and he swept out of the room. 

He followed Draco to the fourth floor where he found the unfortunate Montague trapped inside a toilet. It didn’t take Snape too long to release the boy and Madam Pomfrey took him to the school’s hospital. Snape wondered why Umbridge couldn’t have done the relatively straightforward release spell herself, the fact that Montague was Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team was irrelevant and she shouldn’t have prolonged his predicament. He concluded that she was just trying to show the staff who was in charge by demanding that Snape attend. By the time he returned to his office he was feeling irritated that his time had been wasted. The door was slightly ajar and as he slowly pushed it he could see the movement of the silver light from the pensieve reflected on the door frame and his insides turned to ice. He silently opened the door and saw Potter with his face in the pensieve spying on Snape’s memories. Although he had forgotten the detail of the memories he had stored he remembered that some of them were deeply personal and he was filled with anger. He reached out and grabbed the top of Potter’s arm in a vice like grip and pulled him away from the pensieve. 

“Having fun?” he growled noticing as he did so a faint image of James Potter standing by a young Snape in the pensieve. “So,” he said gripping Potter harder, “So … been enjoying yourself Potter?” 

“N-no..” stammered Potter trying to release himself from Snape’s grasp.

Snape felt his anger build inside him, he knew there were precious memories in the pensieve, secret things that mustn’t be found out, someone’s life may depend upon it, someone he knew was dear to him. He needed those memories back, unsullied and untouched. He had seen James Potter in the pensieve so he started there, “Amusing man, your father, wasn’t he?” he said shaking Potter so hard that the boy’s glasses slipped down his nose. 

“I didn’t…” Potter began and Snape threw him in rage across the room and he landed heavily on the floor.

“You will not repeat what you saw to anybody!” Snape bellowed.

“No, no of course I won’t…” Potter said scrambling to his feet and heading towards the door.

“Get out!” Snape shrieked, “Get out and I don’t want to see you in this office ever again!” He picked up a jar of cockroaches and launched it towards Potter, the jar hit the wall above the door and exploded over Potter’s head as he wrenched open the door and ran from the room.

After he’d gone Snape stood in the room panting for breath. He rushed to the pensieve, and saw that only the uppermost memory seemed to have been disturbed, the one with James Potter in it, silver threads whirling around the top of the bowl. Snape removed his wand from his pocket, used it to pick up the memory as a long silver strand and inserted it back into head. In the bottom of the bowl remained a silver pool shimmering like mercury that was calm and still, Snape repeated the action with his wand and inserted the memories back into his head. His life with Azalea flooded back into his mind, these were the memories he treasured; this was the person he needed to protect. He was fairly certain now that Potter had not seen these images but it had been a close thing. He would never remove anything involving Azalea from his head again, she would stay with him there until the end of his life, always there, forever with him. His ability as an occlumen made those memories safer inside his head than being in a pensieve. 

Only now that his memories were whole again did he begin to wonder if had overreacted with Potter, he was Azalea’s cousin and she was fond of him. If Potter ever told her how angry Snape had been and how he had thrown him across the room, Azalea’s disappointment in him would be unbearable. Snape knew that, despite his faults, Potter was capable of honouring a promise not to tell and he would just have to have faith that Potter would keep it this time.


	52. Mirror, Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea is feeling unwell and Severus looks after her.

The school Easter holidays began and Sirius had been deeply disappointed to discover that Harry was going to spend it at Hogwarts and not at Grimmauld Place. The OWLs were to take place later in the term and many fifth years had elected to stay at school and study, Hermione and Ron included. Sirius felt he could not criticise Harry for wanting to do extra study. Remus was staying at Grimmauld Place but he was no substitute for Harry. In order to lift Sirius’ spirits Azalea suggested that three of them should go out for a walk. Remus was concerned that Sirius would be recognised but Azalea and Sirius admitted that they had been out on many occasions with Sirius disguised using polyjuice potion. While they were getting ready Tonks stopped by and invited herself along with them. Azalea liked Tonks, she enjoyed her carefree attitude and love of life and she was happy for her to join them, Remus seemed less enthusiastic but made no real objection. 

The four of them piled into Azalea’s car which she kept in the square at Grimmauld Place and she drove to Epping Forest. Once they arrived she parked the car, took a walker’s guide from the information panel and they all set off down one of the well-defined paths. It was a fine spring day in early April and the sun shone through the branches of the trees highlighting the soft green flush of the young leaves on the trees. “According to the map,” said Tonks, who was looking over Remus’ shoulder at it, “there’s a pub in a couple of miles. Let’s go there, have a drink then walk back along another route.”

“That’s fine with me. You two OK with that?” Azalea asked the men who were in agreement. They walked the distance to the pub, which was busy but not excessively so. As they approached Azalea said “Remember we have to use muggle money here, not wizard’s nuts and bolts.”

Lupin looked pained as he corrected her, “You mean knuts, sickles and galleons.”

Tonks joined in the joke, “it’s OK I’ve got some muggle pounds and ounces. I’ll get the first round.” Lupin went to the bar with her while Sirius and Azalea found some seats.

“I hope Remus carries the drinks back, if Tonks does it they’re liable to end up on the floor,” commented Sirius as he sat down where he could see the bar and the door they’d come in through.

“I expect that why he went with her,” said Azalea as she sat opposite Sirius who shot her a knowing look.

Remus and Tonks returned with the drinks, as expected Remus was carrying them. Sirius took a long drink from his glass, as he set it back on the table he said, “If there’s one thing muggles do better than wizards it’s brew beer. This is superb.”

“I agree,” said Azalea. “Butterbeer isn’t beer at all, but you can improve the taste by adding some fire whisky.”

“That’s a waste of fire whisky,” said Sirius. 

The four of them branched into a conversation about the best type of alcoholic drinks. It soon became clear that the two women knew more about the subject than the men. Sirius having spent so many years incarnated in Azkaban where alcohol was banned and Remus because he had to keep a clear head due to his werewolf affliction. Azalea had never had a proper conversation with Tonks before and she warmed to the friendly young woman. After a while Remus noticed that Sirius’s disguise was starting to slip and his dark skin was slowly but obviously turning a paler shade, he pointed it out to Sirius who removed from his pocket the hip flask containing the polyjuice potion and he took a large mouthful. It began its work immediately and his skin returned to the deep brown shade that was his disguise. The bar tender had noticed Sirius drinking from the hip flask and came over to speak to them. “You can only drink items you have purchased from the bar,” he told them politely.

“Sorry,” said Azalea “we won’t do it again.”

“I’ll be at the bar if you would like to buy more drinks,” he said pointedly and Azalea felt obliged to buy another round. Once they’d finished those drinks they left the bar and started the walk back to the car.

Azalea and Sirius were walking at a faster pace than Tonks and Remus and soon the distance between the couples increased. They came to a stile and Sirius leapt over it and once on the other side gallantly held out his hand to help Azalea dismount. Azalea didn’t require assistance but accepted his help. When she was standing on the ground she went to remove her hand from his but Sirius tightened his grip saying, “Can I hold your hand? I’d like to pretend that I’m going out with a beautiful woman.”

Azalea responded in sarcastic good humour, “Thanks very much!”

Sirius realised how she’d chosen to interpret his words, “No, I didn’t mean that you weren’t beautiful! I meant…”

“I know what you meant, Sirius,” she interrupted, “and I agree that you should be going out with a beautiful woman, but you know that woman isn’t going to be me.”

“No, you’ve got your prince,” he said sourly.

“Yes I have,” she told him firmly. “What about Tonks, she likes you well enough?”

“She’s pleasant and great company, as long as I move anything breakable out of the way when she visits, but she’s not my type. Anyway she’s already spoken for,” he said turning to look the way they had just come. 

Azalea followed his gaze and saw Tonks and Remus coming into view walking slowly together with their arms around each other. “When did that happen? How did I miss that?” Azalea asked in surprise.

“Because you’re hardly ever at home these days, that’s why,” said Sirius bitterly.

Azalea knew he was right and suddenly felt guilty at her lack of attention towards him. She gripped his hand tighter to get his attention. “I have been away a lot recently,” she said. “I’ve stayed over at my own house a few times when I’ve finished work at odd hours and didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I’d rather you disturbed me, it saves me worrying about you,” he said.

Azalea remembered that one of the reasons she’d wanted to stay at Grimmauld Place in the first place was to keep Sirius company. She’d been so preoccupied with her own life that she’d forgotten about his. How lonely he must be, if anything she’d made his situation worse by moving in and then flitting in and out when the mood suited her than if she’d never moved in at all. She knew he went out by himself sometimes in his polyjuice disguise, but he always had to be on his guard in case anyone found out who he was and the whole might of the Ministry of Magic would descend on him. It was one thing to go out for a breath of fresh air but quite another to rebuild his life; to do that he needed proper freedom from pursuit and the ability to meet and interact with other people without fear of betrayal or capture. She stood facing him and took his other hand in hers. “Sirius, I’ve got my NEWT exams in four weeks’ time but once I’ve finished those I’ll have a lot more free time. I would like to spend it trying to help you to clear your name, so you can go outside the house and live a normal life.”

“Would you do that for me?” he said earnestly squeezing her hands.

“Of course I would, and to be honest it’s long overdue. You’ve been free from Azkaban for close on two years now and somebody should have done something long before now.”

“But you’re the only one to think about it,” he said, moving closer and drawing her into a hug which she returned. He could see over shoulder that Remus and Tonks were almost at the stile so he released her and stepped away to give them room to cross.

“I hope we’re not interrupting anything,” said Tonks as she stepped over the stile.

“No, I was telling Sirius that I’m going to help him clear his name once I’ve taken my NEWTs,” said Azalea. “Where do you think the best place to start would be?” she asked.

“Peter Pettigrew,” Remus said succinctly. “He’s the only one who knows what’s really happened.”

“First you’d have to find him, then you’d have to get him to confess,” Tonks said, “and even then it would his word against Sirius’.” 

“Where did he go, anyway?” asked Azalea as the four of them walked together down the path through the trees.

“I’ve always assumed he’s gone to join Voldemort,” said Remus, “he was always one to look for the strongest person to befriend and protect him.”

“That should be easy enough to find out,” said Azalea, “I’ll ask Severus.”

“No!" said Sirius vehemently.

“Why ever not?” she asked surprised by his outburst.

“I don’t want him involved. I don’t want to be in his debt,” explained Sirius.

“But we’re already in his debt,” Azalea said reasonably, “he’s passed across a lot of information to Dumbledore about Voldemort’s plans and movements.”

“But none about who the Death Eaters actually are,” observed Remus.

“And,” interjected Sirius, “Snape is in Dumbledore’s debt because Dumbledore kept him out of Azkaban by vouching for him. Of course he’s going to help Dumbledore but he wouldn’t lift a finger to help me.”

“O.K. I won’t ask him,” said Azalea, fully intending to do so when the time was right. “If any of you hear anything about Pettigrew’s whereabouts or have any other ideas about how to clear Sirius’ name, let me know. I must say that the standard of evidence required to secure a conviction in Wizard law seems flimsy to me, I hope the standard works both ways to overturn a conviction.”

“I’m not sure that wizard law is big on overturning convictions,” commented Tonks. “But there’s always an exception. I’ll let you know anything that comes my way Azalea, the sooner we can get this man back in the big wide world the sooner we can all go out again on a double date.”

“This wasn’t a date,” said Azalea and Remus in unison.

Tonks winked at Sirius, “Remus always says that, but we know better, don’t we Sirius?”

\--oOo--

A few days later Azalea was at Severus’ house. Following the walk in Epping Forest she had spent more time with Sirius. He had been helping her to revise for her NEWTs but both of them felt like they needed a change. Remus was still staying with him and Azalea was missing Severus, so she told Sirius she was going to her home in Stevenage and would be away for a couple of days. She had arrived at Spinners End the previous day with a headache, a blocked nose and a sore throat. As the day and night has progressed she felt worse and worse. She now lay in bed listening to the sound of Severus singing in the shower. She loved the sound of his singing and he rarely hit a bad note. The door to the bedroom opened and he came in with a towel wrapped around his waist and drying his hair with a small hand towel, the action made the toned muscles in his torso move smoothly something which usually made Azalea want to run her hands over his body but not today. He sat down on the bed and threw the hand towel into a corner. Azalea sat up slowly and he noticed her face was flushed in a feverish way and her eyes were rimmed with red. He put his hand to her forehead. “You’re burning up,” he said, “and you were very restless last night, not to mention the coughing and sniffing.”

“Sorry if I kept you awake. I wasn’t feeling well yesterday and now I feel worse. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll get dressed and go home,” she said starting to remove the duvet and swing her legs out of the bed.

“No,” said Severus firmly and pulling the duvet back up, “you’re staying exactly where you are and I’m going to look after you.” Azalea knew she should protest but the idea of staying in bed and letting someone else take responsibility was too attractive to resist, she lay back down on the bed. “The first thing I’m going to do is to give you a mild sleeping draught using an old family recipe. Sleep is good at promoting recovery and after your bad night last night you need to catch up.”

“Thanks darling,” Azalea mumbled just before a fit of coughing over took her. 

Severus went downstairs, prepared the sleeping draught and brought back up to the bedroom where Azalea sat up and sipped it commenting that it tasted like honey. When she’d finished he settled her back into the bed, he placed a box of tissues and a glass of water within reach on the bedside cabinet. “I’m going to the supermarket to get some groceries, you rest and when I get back I’ll make lunch if you feel up to it,” he told her as he gently dabbed her hot forehead with a cold cloth. 

“O.K. I’ll see you later,” she said closing her eyes.

Severus went to the muggle supermarket that was the closest to his house. He bought the groceries and a bunch of flowers to brighten up the bedroom and to cheer up Azalea. He returned home, put the groceries away and the flowers into a vase. He left Azalea to sleep whilst he prepared soup for lunch and a cottage pie for dinner which he would heat up later. He took the vase of flowers upstairs and placed them on the chest of drawers where they would be in Azalea’s line of sight when she woke up. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully and he lay on top of the bed covers next to her and looked at her face so serene in repose. Her eyes started to move under her eyelids in a rapid movement that indicated she was dreaming.

^^Leah^^ he projected to her with his mind, ^^what are you dreaming about?^^ he asked curiously. He hadn’t expected her to respond but she did.

^^Severus^^ she said and invited him into her mind.

He entered her dream state sharing the dream from her point of view. They were in large room with many people who Severus didn’t know, dressed in healer’s robes and who he assumed were her work colleagues. Dream Azalea looked from face to face searching for someone, then her gaze stopped on a man. At first he didn’t recognise the man she was looking at but with a jolt he realised he was seeing himself as she saw him. Not a thin weedy man, with greasy hair, a big nose, beetle eyes and yellow teeth but a man standing straight and upright, with glossy locks, a proud roman nose, warm shining brown eyes, and a ready smile. Dream Azalea looked at him and he glowed at her attention. “You’ll always look after me, won’t you?” she asked him. 

Dream Severus reached out and touched her face gently saying “Yes, always.” 

Dream Azalea nuzzled her face into his hand and asked, “And will you always be on my side?”

Dream Severus ran his finger down her face in a way that real Severus would never do and replied “Of course, we’re both on the same side - the winning side.” 

The dream started to fade and Severus withdrew from her mind. He lay on the bed and thought about the way he appeared in the dream. He got up from the bed and crossed over to the mirror hanging over the fireplace and studied his reflection looking for what she saw there. He heard the rustle of the duvet being moved and heard Azalea saying softly, “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

Severus slowly turned around to face her, “Azalea, am I a handsome man?”

She got out of the bed, walked around it and stood next to him looking seriously at him, “Severus, you know that you are not but neither are you an ugly man.” She reached up and touched his face in an echo of her dream, “To me this is the face that I love more than any other in the world. It is this face that I want to see every night before I go to sleep and it is this face I want to see every morning when I awake. I want this face to celebrate with me through all my joys and to console me in my sorrow. This is the face I want to grow old beside, and when we walk down the street in many years to come, no one will even think that two old people could once have been young let alone beautiful. But we will know that our love has lasted a lifetime; that we never needed beauty which is an ephemeral thing and is only skin deep, all we ever needed was each other.”

He was profoundly moved by her words and in elation at the things she’d said he felt like the most handsome man in the world. “Leah,” he whispered, covering her hand with his, “Will you marry me?”

She smiled at him, the smile that he loved, and gave a short laugh, “I wasn’t fishing for a proposal, I just wanted to tell you that I love you for the person you are and not for your looks. If I wanted a proposal I’d just ask.”

He smiled down at her. “Ask me then,” he challenged.

Her face twitched in surprise but she rose to the challenge, “Severus, will you marry me?”

“Yes, absolutely yes,” he replied his eyes sparkling with joy, he uncovered her hand and pulled her towards him.

“Wait,” she said and he stopped his movement giving her a questioning look. “I haven’t answered your question yet.”

His eyes lit up in anticipation and he repeated his earlier proposal, “Azalea, will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

“Yes, absolutely yes,” she said. He leant down to kiss her but she suddenly turned from him, rushed over to the cabinet to grab a tissue before sneezing into it and blowing her nose loudly. “I’m sorry,” she said contritely, “I rather think I just spoiled the moment.”

He laughed at her chagrin, “Nothing you could do would ever spoil that moment for me. The moment you agreed to be my wife, will for ever be one of the highlights of my life.” He kissed her forehead, and added, “even if you are all snotty and croaky. Now, I’m going to make us some lunch, I’ll bring it up in a few minutes, you get back to bed.”

He had almost finished preparing lunch when he heard the toilet flush shortly followed by the sound of Azalea walking down the stairs. She came into the kitchen fully dressed and holding a parchment in her hand.

“Where are you’re going?” he asked.

“I need to send a message to Sirius. I’m going to get an owl.” She saw his face darken at the mention of Sirius’s name. “Don’t look at me like that,” she protested. “He worries about me,” she explained. “I told him I’d be back tonight but I’m not feeling well enough, if it’s OK with you then I’ll stay here so you can look after me and I’ll go back to Grimmauld Place on Monday, in time to take Winky to her antenatal appointment at the House Elf Hospital.”

“I’ve never heard of the House Elf Hospital,” he commented.

“Not many people have unless they’ve got a house elf. It was founded about one hundred years ago by some philanthropic wizards who wanted to help the house elves. Or if you take a cynical view, house elves are a valuable asset and should be kept in good health,” she told him. “You don’t mind me staying here do you?”

“Of course not and I’ll gladly look after you. Give me the letter, I’ll get an owl and send it for you. You shouldn’t even be out of bed.” He held out his hand and she gave him the letter. 

“I always use the owls from the Post Office in Hogsmeade,” she told him. “You’ll have to do the same.”

“O.K. I’ll do it now then we can enjoy lunch. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Can you keep an eye on the soup, and make sure it doesn’t boil over?” He returned in a few minutes, the errand completed. The soup was ready and Azalea had warmed up a couple of bread rolls to accompany it. She served the soup into two bowls and they sat at the kitchen table to eat it. “Just think,” he said, “this is our first meal together as an engaged couple.”

She smiled, “there will be a lot of those sort of firsts over the next few days.” She paused, “Are we going to tell anyone? Up until now we kept our relationship a secret, will we continue to do so?”

Severus stopped eating, his spoon almost at this mouth, he replaced it in the bowl. “I think we should continue to keep it to ourselves. You could still be used against me.” He suddenly remembered a dream he’d had months ago where Voldemort had been torturing Azalea and he shuddered in spite of himself.

“There’s no rush to get married then,” she commented.

“Yes there is,” he said on impulse. Upon seeing Azalea’s querying look he continued justifying his reasons as he spoke. “We’re at war with the Dark Lord. I know it doesn’t seem like it now but before long conflict will come. The Dark Lord is currently pre-occupied with retrieving something from the Hall of Mysteries but at the same time he is quietly building his armies, he makes agreements with the giants and who do you think the escaped Death Eaters fled to? When the day comes that the Dark Lord declares war we will both be dragged into it. We could both die at any time, me in particular if the Dark Lord suspects my true allegiance. Although these days my first allegiance is to you. I want to marry you as soon as possible so I can experience a time with you untainted by full out war, where we can dream of a peaceful future and think only of each other.”

“But would the marriage be kept secret too?”

“Yes.”

“I thought a marriage was a public declaration of a couple’s love and commitment to one another, made in the presence of their friends and relatives. If we marry in secret no one will know,” she said, slightly puzzled by his attitude.

“We will know Leah. I have so little to give you, so I shall give you all I have. My eternal love, my commitment, my loyalty,” he said in a gentle but passionate tone. “I want to record for posterity that a wonderful woman found me worthy. What better way than by a marriage certificate.”

“I don’t need a marriage certificate to prove I find you worthy, Severus, I only have to search my heart. Anyway, to play devil’s advocate, a marriage certificate is also evidence that could be discovered and used against you.”

“Not if we get married in a muggle ceremony,” Severus said excitedly. “None of my enemies would think to look there. How long does it take to arrange a muggle wedding?”

Azalea was quite well acquainted with muggle wedding requirements having recently attended her friend’s wedding and she had been kept informed of progress in minute detail. “In theory, you can do it about three weeks, if you have the ceremony at the Register Office and aren’t fussy about the date and time. Otherwise it takes as long as you want it to take.”

“Three weeks it is then,” he said decisively.

“But that’s the time of my NEWTs” she protested.

“All right, as soon as you’ve finished your NEWTs. The next day we’ll get married.”

“But Severus…..”

He held up his hand. “Ah ah no “but Severus”. Do you want to marry me or not?”

“Yes, I do,” she said with certainty.

“And I want to marry you. Why should we wait? The decision’s made - all that we’re discussing now is the timing.”

Suddenly the world fell into place for Azalea. He was right. She didn’t need a big wedding - she didn’t even want one. It was being married that was important - not getting married. She regarded him with an expression of unconditional love, “The day after my NEWTs finish,” she agreed. “And when the fight with Voldemort is over we can have a big party, invite everyone we know and announce to the world that we’re married and proud of it.”

He returned her look with a matching one of his own, “Yes, anything that makes you happy makes me happy.” He finished eating his soup and said, “Now that’s settled, there’s one more thing.” Azalea glanced at him as she spooned the soup into her mouth and gave him a questioning look. He stood up from the table, crossed over to the side board and took out a flat box from the top drawer. He returned to the table and put it down between them and pushed it towards Azalea. She moved the empty soup bowl from in front of her and pulled the box, which was coated in red leather showing the patina of age, towards her. She lifted up the lid and stared at the contents in wonder. 

“Severus, this is beautiful,” she gasped. In the box was a necklace and a pair of matching earrings made of green emeralds in an intricate gold setting. She lifted the necklace from the box and examined them closely. “Look at the workmanship and how the emeralds catch the light – I can see gold and red sparks in them.”

“They’re called fire emeralds, they remind of your eyes.”

“Not the red bits surely?” she said.

“Only when you’re angry,” he amended.

“I don’t think I’d ever be angry wearing this,” she mused. “Where did you get it from?”

“It belonged to my mother. It’s been in her family for generations. She had wanted to pass it on to any daughters she might have, but as she didn’t have any it came to me. Now I want you to have it.” 

“If she had this, why did you live in such poverty, think how many meals this could have bought you? How it could have clothed you and kept you warm?” Azalea asked.

“Any money we may have obtained from selling this wouldn’t have lasted long. My father had a knack of sniffing out money. He would have spent it all on beer and gambling. I didn’t mind going hungry for something so beautiful and which gave my mother pleasure to look upon.” Severus said.

“But how did she hide it from him?” Azalea asked.

“She was a witch,” he said. “Not a powerful one, otherwise she could have left him and hidden from him herself, but she was able to hide small things, like this, from his attention.”

Azalea replaced the jewellery in the box and handed it back to him. “I will wear this on our wedding day,” she declared. “Afterwards we’ll put it away safely and one day pass it on to our own daughter.”

“I like that idea,” he said returning the box to the drawer. “But now you need to get back to bed and get better. You’ve got a lot of studying to do for your NEWTs and not much time to do it in.”


	53. Origins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus learns about Azalea's parentage

Azalea had been given a week’s study leave from St Mungos and leave for the days she sat the NEWTs and exam time was approaching fast. She had arranged the wedding for the day after the NEWTs finished. It was to take place in her home town of Stevenage, she had even found two witnesses who could be trusted not to spread word about their marriage. All the same, she was anxious, there was something she hadn’t yet told Severus, something he needed to know. They had promised each other there would be no secrets between them and she had to tell him before they married. She resolved today would be the day she told him. 

They were at her house in Stevenage, her lodger was away for a few days and they had the house to themselves. Winky had come along too, she had made dinner for Azalea and Severus and was now resting upstairs. After they’d eaten and cleared up, they sat on the sofa with a glass of wine. “Severus,” began Azalea, “do you remember the first time you came here I gave you a photograph of Lily?”

“I remember,” he said. “I also remember that I acted like an idiot and rejected you, trying to convince myself that I didn’t love you. I was such a fool.”

“Yes,” she agreed distractedly. “When I took the photograph of Lily from the frame, something else fell out. This.” She handed him a few sheets of paper covered in elegant handwriting. “I’d like you to read it, it’s to me from my mother.”

He took the letter and read it through.

My darling Leah,

You have just returned to University and the house seems empty without you. It’s been two months since Lily and her family died and it’s made me think how quickly life can be snuffed out with no chance for goodbyes and apologies. I know I have never told you about your father, the time just never seemed right, it still isn’t right, but I want to leave you a record just in case I don’t have the chance to explain in person. 

I met your father when I was 21, he was a little younger than me but that didn’t matter. I was working in Hull and I had gone with a group of girls from the office to a fairground that had a summer season booking in the town. The handsome young man who worked at the fairground had been the subject of much gossip and speculation so we had to go and see for ourselves. The stories were not exaggerated, he looked like a young Marlon Brando, strong muscles rippling under his T shirt as he moved around the Dodgems, he had black hair worn swept back in the style of Elvis, his eyes were bright blue and he had long eyelashes, his lips were full and we all dreamed of kissing them. Needless to say, there was always a queue of young women at the Dodgems, he would dart in out of the cars or leap on to the car holding the pole and look flirtingly at the driver before moving on the next one. The first time I drove the Dodgems I managed to get my car stuck in a corner. He came over and pushed it out then sat next to me to show me have to steer it. I was blushing so much I barely heard a word he said, I was transfixed by the warmth of his body where it touched mine in the cramped seat. He left me to attend to another young women who had got also her car stuck in the corner and I managed to keep the car under control until the ride ended. I got out and rushed with the other girls to join the back of the queue for a second ride. Before my turn came again, a different ride attendant came up and took over the supervision of the Dodgems, the handsome young man collected his leather jacket and walked off with a self-assured swagger. Once he’d gone, the queue melted away but I stayed to have another go. When I’d finished I went in search of the girls I’d come with. As I turned the corner I saw the young man lounging against the side of a van. With one smooth movement he pushed himself away from the van and stood in my path. “Hello,” he said, “I see you’ve improved on the Dodgems after I showed you what to do.” 

“Um, yes, thank you,” I mumbled in confusion. 

He smiled and held out his hand in introduction, “I’m Vinny Thompson.”

I shook his hand, “Thompson? Like the name of the fairground.”

“The very same,” he said, “My family owns and run the fair. I’ve told you my name so you tell me yours.”

“Ivy Bennett,” I replied.

“Ivy,” he said in a way that my insides turn to jelly, “let me show you around the fairground.”

That was the first of many wonderful hours I spent in his company and by the time that glorious summer was over I had given him both my heart and my virginity. Looking back I wonder how I could have been so naïve but love makes us do foolish things. 

One day towards the end of summer I rushed to the fairground after work and the site was empty. The vans and the rides all gone, just a scattering of litter over the trampled down grass. I had known that the fair would leave one day but I had never thought to ask when that would be and Vinny had never told me. There were some Council workmen tidying up the site and I went over to one of them begging him to tell me where the fair had gone. He picked up a leaflet from the ground and thrust it into my hands. I looked at it and read “Thompsons Fairground – final week this summer in Beverley.” I went home and wept bitter tears into my pillow. The next day I decided I couldn’t leave it like that and I caught a train to Beverley. It was easy enough to find the fairground and when I got there it was already fully set up. As I approached I saw Vinny leaning against the Candy Floss van in the way he had that first day I met him. I was about to call to him when a pretty young woman ran up to him and flung herself into his arms, he hugged her tightly and kissed her on the cheek. They entwined their arms and walked into the fairground. I was stunned and heart broken, how quickly he forgot me. I turned my back on the fairground and went home promising myself I would never think of him again. 

It was not to be, two months later I realised I was a girl in trouble. Leah, in those days, having a child out of wedlock was a huge social stigma. Abortion was illegal and back street abortion was the only option for a girl like me and was dangerous, as likely to kill the mother as well as getting rid of the baby. In my heart of hearts I didn’t want to get rid of his baby, our baby. No matter that he had left me, I loved him and I would still have something of his, something I could love as much as I loved him. I told my parents about my predicament. They were furious and deeply disappointed with me, but I was 21, a legal adult and could make my own decisions. In the end they were supportive of me because I was their daughter and they loved me; once you were born they loved you too and treated you equally with Rose’s children. I moved to Stevenage, where my school friend Lucy lived, but otherwise no one knew me and I passed myself off as a young widow. By incredible good fortune I had a small win on the Premium Bonds and it was enough money to tide me over until you were born and I could find a job to support us. 

The first time I saw you after you were born, I knew I had made the right decision. I loved you the moment I held you in my arms and looked at you, all red and wrinkly as you were, I promised myself to protect you against all the bad things in the world, just like any mother would. 

When you were a couple of months old I was taking you for a walk in your pram, proudly showing you off to anyone who was interested. There was a fairground setting up on the recreation ground where I often walked. I was drawn to it, I had to know which fair it was; as I got closer I could clearly see the name “Thompsons Fairground” displayed on a banner over the entrance. I went in with my heart in my mouth, I wanted to see Vinny and yet I didn’t. I wanted him to know he had a child but I didn’t want him to take you away from me or deny he was your father. 

There was an elderly lady near the gate, dressed in traditional gypsy costume, who I recognised as the fairground’s fortune teller. I went up to her and asked if Vinny Thompson still worked here. “You’d better ask Beryl, his sister,” she said sharply pointing to the young woman on the hoopla stall. I followed the direction she was pointing and gasped when I recognised the young woman as the one who had run into Vinny’s arms at Beverley. At that moment you made a noise and the gypsy woman pulled back your covers and stared at you. “Is this his child?” she whispered in a demanding way. I refused to answer. She stared at me in the eyes as if she was trying to force the information out of my brain, I stared back and resolutely thought of nothing. She broke eye contact and gave a short laugh, “Well, well, that’s surprising.” Changing her tone of voice she asked if I would like her to tell my fortune. 

“I have no money for fripperies,” I said tartly.

“The only payment I would take from you is a lock of your baby’s hair,” she said.

I was tempted. Vinny had told me that her predictions were surprisingly accurate, so I agreed to the payment. She led me to the small tent where she worked from, there was a sign saying “Madam Pythia, - palm reading and fortune telling.” I asked her if she was Madam Pythia, she replied that she was and that she was the granddaughter of the great seer Cassandra Trelawny. The name meant nothing to me. Pythia told me that in her family the ability to see only runs true down the female line. She proudly told me that she had a daughter and granddaughters all of whom have the sight. I said something non-committal and looked around the tent. There was a small table with two chairs either side, a crystal ball was standing in the centre of the table. The interior of the tent was decked out with lacy cloths and trinkets hanging from the tent supports. Madam Pythia cut a small lock of your hair, she put it in an ampoule and quickly stoppered it with sealing wax, she then produced what l can only describe as a magic wand from the pocket of her dress. She passed the wand over the ampoule muttering something and as she did so the ampoule glowed a bright blue flecked with yellow. “How pretty,” I remarked, “How did you make it light up like that?” 

She gave a start and then asked me if I could see anything else glowing in the tent. I pointed to the crystal ball on the table and a few of the trinkets hanging from the roof. “Remarkable, quite remarkable,” she said almost to herself, “now I understand my purpose in being here.” She tied a cord around the ampoule containing your hair, hung it about her neck and tucked it out of sight under the shawl she was wearing. She invited me to sit at the table, stared into the crystal ball and told me my fortune. She said I wouldn’t see Vinny again and I would never marry but I would have a happy life. She told me to guard you well (as if I wouldn’t have done so!) because you had a role to play in great events of the future and that you would always be on the winning side. By then you were becoming fretful so I thanked her and took you home.

Now that I knew that Vinny hadn’t immediately left me for another girl I wanted to find out why he had gone so suddenly without a word. The next day I left you with Lucy and returned to the fairground. Madam Pythia’s tent was no longer there and when I asked where she was I was told she had packed up the previous day saying her work at the fairground was done. She wasn’t the reason I had come and I gave it no further thought - I was there to speak to Vinny’s sister. That day she working on the Hall of Mirrors stand. I approached her and asked if she knew where Vinny was. “What do you want to know for?” she demanded. I explained that I had met him last year in Hull and he had left before I’d had a chance to say goodbye. I just wanted to know if he was all right. Beryl seemed to put two and two together, “What’s your name?” she asked and I told her I was Ivy. “You’re as pretty as he said you were,” she said, “He never stopped talking about you.”

“Why did he leave and where is he now,” I begged.

Beryl said, “He left because of some prediction from that charlatan Madam Pythia about how he would be a threat to all he loved. I don’t know where he’s gone but before he left he gave me a message for you in case you ever came to look for him.”

“What did he say?” I asked.

“He told me to tell you that he loved you, that he would never love anyone else the way he loved you. You were not to look for him, no one was to look for him and so far even I haven’t tried.”

I left with mixed feelings, I was glad to know that he had loved me and devastated that he didn’t want me to search him out. 

The predications of Madam Pythia became a self-fulfilling prophecy. I had you to look after and then I had to work to support us, leaving little time and little inclination for me to find and marry someone else. I never did look for Vinny and as time went on the need to find him faded and he became a fond memory that I could relive every time I looked at you. I have had a happy life. What about Madam Pythia’s predictions for you? If you are to be involved in great events then I know you will prevail. As for always being on the winning side, well I’m not sure, you seemed to be on winning teams when you were at school but then you probably didn’t tell me about the times you lost. I know that the people and teams you supported in events like the FA cup, the Olympics or some TV talent show didn’t always win and you were hopeless at tennis. 

My darling Leah, to me you will always be a winner and I bless the day that you came into my life. I have tried to shelter and protect you but I can’t do that for ever, you will have to experience your own disappointments and failures but I will always be there for you. You on the verge of adulthood and I when I see what you are and think of what you will become I couldn’t be more proud. 

Your ever loving Mother.

Severus finished reading the letter feeling moved by the sentiments expressed, he folded the letter back up and handed it Azalea saying, “You know your parentage makes no difference to the way I feel about you. I am not put off by the fact that you are the illegitimate daughter of a fairground worker. I am only glad that two people got together to make you and that I was lucky enough to meet you and fall in love with you.”

Azalea took the letter from him and said seriously, “There’s more that you need to hear.”

“Whatever it is it still won’t matter, unless it turns out your my sister or something,” he said flippantly. Suddenly he said in genuine, but completely irrational, concern, “You’re not my sister are you?”

“No,” she laughed, “definitely not, or any other relative as far as I know. If I had been I’d have told you long before now.”

“So what is it that I need to hear?” he asked.

Azalea refilled their wine glasses and began to speak.

“After I’d read the letter from my mother I began to wonder about my father and my relatives on his side. I knew I had an Aunt Beryl and I was curious to know about them. I decided that I would try to find out if Thompsons Fairground still existed, or if not then what had become of it. After spending hours in public libraries looking up information on funfairs and browsing telephone directories I finally struck lucky. I managed to track down the winter quarters for the fairground and one day towards the end of last year I plucked up my courage and drove there. The winter quarters comprised a large field where the fairground equipment was stored, some covered by large tarpaulins. Next to the field was a shabby looking house. I rang the doorbell and the door was answered by a dumpy middle aged woman who looked very weather beaten. I had practised in my mind the words I was going to say but when presented with this stranger who might be my relative all the words went out my mind and I stood there in silence.  
“What do you want?” she asked in a deep voice.

I gathered my thoughts and said, “I’m looking for Beryl or Vinny Thompson and I wondered if either of them are still connected with the fairground.”

“Why do you want to know?” she asked sharply.

“It’s a family matter,” I replied. “Are they still connected with the funfair?” I repeated.

I’m Beryl,” she admitted “but I haven’t been a Thompson for over 25 years. As for Vinny we haven’t seen or heard from him for more than 30 years.”

“Oh,” I said, not entirely surprised that Vinny had never shown up again. 

At that point a female voice came from inside, “Beryl, who’s at the door?”

“Some woman asking about Vinny,” she shouted back, “I’ll get rid of her.” 

The owner of the voice came into view, she was aged around 80 and stood tall and straight with white hair cut close to her head. She stared at me, “Wait,” she said to Beryl who was about to close the door on me. She then walked closer to me and studied my face. “Why do you want to know about Vinny?” she asked.

By this time my only option was to be direct about the reason I was there before the door was closed to me, “He’s my father,” I stated.

Beryl gasped. The older woman examined my face more intently and said, “It’s the truth, she has his look.”

Beryl said dismissively, “Mother, she looks nothing like Vinny.”

“No,” said her mother, “not Vinny, she looks like his father.” Beryl stared at her mother in disbelief and her mother said, “Beryl, there is something I need to tell you, now is a good a time as any.” She then invited me to come into the house which I did. I introduced myself as she led me to a small kitchen and offered me tea before instructing Beryl to make it. As Beryl filled the kettle and put it on to boil, Mrs Thompson said, “If Vinny was your father then who is your mother?”

“Ivy Bennett.” I said. “They met when the fair was doing a summer run in Hull.”

“I remember that year,” said Mrs Thompson, then turned to address Beryl, “You were away that summer, with another fairground, but I do remember a girl that Vinny was infatuated with. His attention to his work was distracted and I was glad when we left so he could forget about her.”

“And did he forget about her?” I asked. I needed to know if my mother was just a summer fling, like a sailor having a girl in every port, or if he had loved her.

“No, I don’t think he forgot her,” said Mrs Thompson. “He was a good looking boy and the girls were always throwing themselves at him but he rarely took advantage. He was honourable.”

“Only up to a point,” I retorted, “he left my mother pregnant and abandoned her.”

Mrs Thompson defended her son. “He didn’t know she was pregnant, had he known he would have married her in an instant.” 

Beryl, who had been listening while waiting for the kettle to boil, interjected, “He would have married her anyway. He wanted to, he had intended to ask her before the fair left Hull that year.” She spoke to her mother “You remember that old gypsy fortune teller who was with the fair for a few years?”

“Yes, Madam Pythia. We were lucky to get her, she had quite a reputation for accurate predictions.”

“Well, it was one of her “accurate predictions” that made him change his mind about marrying Ivy and the reason why he left in such a hurry,” said Beryl bitterly.

“You never told me that before,” said Mrs Thompson, “what happened?”

“It looks like it’s the day for family secrets to come out doesn’t it, mother?” said Beryl, “We discover you have another grandchild you didn’t know existed and I’m suddenly an aunty. You have something to tell me about Vinny and I have something to tell you about why he left. I’ll go first shall I?”

Mrs Thompson nodded and Beryl told the story. Vinny had been on his way to see Ivy after she finished work, he had bought her a bunch of flowers and was intending to ask her to marry him. As he was leaving the fairground, Madam Pythia saw him and called him over to her tent offering to read his fortune. He was a bit of a sucker for predictions so he went to see her hoping she would tell him that he and Ivy would live happily ever after. She did nothing of the sort. She told him that his future was bleak and he was a danger to anyone he loved - his mother, his sister and Ivy. If he married Ivy the marriage would be short and they would die within a few years along with any children they may have. His best option would be to never to see her again and to go somewhere she would never find him - only that way would Ivy be safe and the rest of his family protected. Vinny was distraught and demanded that Pythia prove what she said was true. She must have done because Vinny was convinced. He did go and see Ivy one more time, he hid in the shadows and watched her leaving her office when she finished work. He said it was raining but she was happy and laughing with the other girls from the office as they ran for the bus. He said that was how he wanted to remember her – joyous and full of life. He said he didn’t contact her again or let her know when or where the fairground was moving to. It went to Beverley, which was when Beryl re-joined it. Vinny told her he was going away and wasn’t coming back. If she ever saw Ivy she was to say that he loved her but she wasn’t to look for him. Beryl said she had seen Ivy about a year later and had passed on the message. 

Mrs Thompson listened to Beryl’s story and told me that Vinny had left the fairground at the end of that season. She said he’d also asked her not to look for him, a request which she ignored but was still unable to find him despite years of searching. She had never quite given up hope but in her heart of hearts she feared he was dead.”

“We lapsed into silence,” Azalea continued telling Severus. “Beryl busied herself making the tea and then it was Mrs Thompson’s turn to tell her tale.

Mrs Thompson started by apologising to Beryl for what she was about to say but if she didn’t tell the story now it would never be told. Mrs Thompson said that during the Second World War….”

“You do know about the Second World War don’t you Severus?” Azalea said as an aside.

“Yes I do, I’m not completely ignorant about Muggle history,” he said. “As it happens many wizards contributed significantly to the war effort, we lived in the same country we couldn’t ignore it completely.”

Azalea resumed the story. During the war many of the men who worked permanently at the fairground were conscripted into the army, Mrs Thompson’s husband included. She kept the fair going with the help of women and children who remained behind, she wanted to keep life as normal as possible and give people the chance to forget the war for a while as they enjoyed the funfair. Not to mention that the fair was her livelihood and without it she would have struggled to make ends meet for her and Beryl who was only a baby at the time. During the summer season they often hired in casual labour, usually young men who were trying to avoid being drafted into the army but Mrs Thompson never asked questions and paid them in cash. One of these labourers was a charismatic and good looking young man. Mrs Thompson said, “I was completely beguiled by him and he charmed his way into my heart and into my bed. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen or have ever seen since. I know my son was considered handsome but he had nothing compared to his father. I see echoes of him in you Azalea that’s why I know without a shadow of a doubt that you are my granddaughter.” She said that by the time she realised she was pregnant her lover had gone. She told her fairground workers that her husband had been sent back to England for training and she was going to visit him for a weekend because he was not allowed off base. This wasn’t true, instead she stayed in a guest house for a weekend and pretended she had seen him. Once her pregnancy began to show people could assume what they wished and premature babies were not uncommon in those days. Her husband was killed during the war and she was never obliged to explain the child to him. She said “I’ve always felt that my husband’s life was the price I paid for my infidelity.”

Beryl said, “Mum, you shouldn’t blame yourself. Many men died during the war and who’s to say he wouldn’t have died whatever happened. I don’t remember my father but you always did your best for us. It does explain why I was the ugly duckling of the family and Vinny was the swan.”

Azalea said to Severus, “I thought Beryl’s attitude was more than generous and she took it all rather well.”

Mrs Thompson carried on speaking, “Your brother’s name wasn’t even Vinny,” she said to Beryl who replied that she knew it was short for Marvin. “No, that wasn’t his name either, I named him Marvolo but Vinny didn’t like it and changed it to Marvin which inevitably was shortened to Vinny.”

I asked Mrs Thompson why she named her son Marvolo, she said that her lover’s name was Thomas Marvolo. She wanted to call her son after his father but she didn’t think Thomas Thompson worked as a name so she used Marvolo instead. 

Azalea glanced over at Severus and asked, “Severus, how many people do you know with the name Marvolo?”

Severus could see where Azalea’s thoughts were heading a chill feeling swept over him. “Only one who is still alive.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Azalea concurred. “I made an excuse that I wanted to fetch something from the car to show her. Once outside I apparated to Hogwarts and took a copy of one the photographs from the corridor where the photos of former head boys and girls are displayed. I showed it to Mrs Thompson and asked her if that was Thomas Marvolo. She said his wasn’t a face she would ever forget and it was her Thomas in the photograph.”

“Severus, I don’t have to explain to you what this means but I wanted you to know so that you’ll know exactly what family you would be marrying into if you marry me.”  
“Leah,” said Severus gently, “there is no “if” about marrying you. As I said to you when I read your mother’s letter it makes no difference to the way I feel about you. It’s you that I am going to marry not your relatives. We’re getting married after your NEWTs and if my in-laws cause a problem I will deal with it.”

Azalea leant over to Severus and kissed him gently on the lips saying, “I’m glad you think that because that was my view. There is a bit more to the story.”

“Tell it to me,” replied Severus putting his arm around her, pulling her close and nuzzling her soft brown hair.

“When Beryl saw the photograph, she took it from me and said that she’d seen this man. It was when she was about 14 years old and was at the age when she would take note of a handsome man. She said he hadn’t changed a lot from the photograph, he had still looked remarkably young given that Vinny was about 12 years old at the time. She said he came striding into the fairground demanding that someone tell him where the boy was. Eventually someone pointed out Vinny to him. Thomas grabbed Vinny’s face and stared into his eyes as if trying to read his mind. He threw Vinny aside and announced, “This boy is a squib. He is no son of mine.” With that he marched out of the fairground and neither Mrs Thompson nor Beryl ever saw him again.


	54. Commitment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Predictably this chapter is about the wedding day.

The bell for the end of the last exam sounded and Azalea put down her pen and tidied up her papers. She was relieved it was over. The past year had been incredibly hard for her, she had held down a full time job at the hospital and spent her spare time studying for four NEWTs. Normally five NEWTs were expected for healer training but she had been excused the requirement for Herbology because it was extensively covered in Healer training modules. The marking scheme for NEWTs attributed 50 per cent to the practical side of the subjects – something she was very good at – she was weaker at the theory. Given the limited time she had available to study for the exams she had been forced to be selective in the subject areas she had studied – some she hadn’t covered at all. Fortunately she had done enough and the subjects she had covered had been in the exam papers.

Umbridge had attempted to stop Azalea coming into Hogwarts to take the exams but for once she had been overruled by the Ministry of Magic. It was common for non-Hogwarts students to sit exams in the school, either former pupils re-sitting their exams or adults who wanted to take NEWTs they had never studied school. It was administratively simpler for all examinees to sit the exams in one place and Azalea had not been the only adult taking the examinations. She stretched out in the chair and looked around her at the other students impatiently waiting to leave the room. Some had further exams to take over the next few days but many hadn’t and already there was a buzz of excitement filling the air despite the exam invigilators calls for silence until all papers had been collected. She waited quietly, although her papers had already been collected because her name was the beginning of the alphabet. 

Without false modesty she considered she had done enough to pass and get the required E. The only doubt she had was in relation to the Defence Against the Darks Art practical. When she had entered the exam room she had been told that the first test was defeating a boggart. She had never seen or had a real experience of a boggart but knew in theory how they operated. She didn’t want to face her greatest fear in the presence of an examiner. She didn’t know what her greatest fear would be but thought it might be something to do with Severus. Despite the fact they were to be married soon, she and Severus had agreed they must keep their relationship secret. She had cautiously approached the cabinet in which the boggart was hiding. She felt the presence of the creature inside it and the waves of mental energy coming from the cabinet trying to force her to give in to her basic fear instinct. With a supreme effort she had cleared her mind of all thoughts, refusing to submit to the feeling of fear. The door of the cabinet had burst open and a large headed fairy-like creature burst out, its wings flapping at speed. The examiner had looked shocked. “You fear the boggart?” he’d said. Azalea realised that this was what a boggart must look like in its natural state. At the same time the boggart appeared to notice it was in its natural state and it had blinked out of existence. “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” she had quoted not sure whether she had passed or failed this particular test.

The exam papers were all collected and the students allowed to leave the room. The Hogwarts pupils left in a whirl of excitement and noisy whoops, the mature students walked out more calmly. Professor Snape was waiting outside the door, he glared at the Hogwarts students and they fell silent until they were out of earshot and then resumed their exuberant celebrations. Azalea smiled when she saw him by the door but resisted the temptation to fling herself into his arms. “Professor Snape,” she greeted him politely and he fell into step with her.

“How did that go?” he asked.

“I think I did enough,” she said, “but I’m glad it’s over. I don’t want to have to do it again.”

“I hope you won’t be saying the same thing tomorrow,” he murmured.

“I probably will but for different reasons,” she laughed. 

\--oOo—

The next day was bright and clear, which, had she been superstitious, Azalea would have taken as a good omen. The marriage ceremony had been booked as the last slot of the day. Snape often had unexplained absences from his teaching at Hogwarts when he was summoned by Voldemort and no one questioned his need to be away on this occasion. Azalea had spent the day at Lucy’s house getting ready, although there were only to be four people at the ceremony Azalea wanted to look her best on her wedding day. The fourth person and other witness was Beryl, who was also at Lucy house and the three of them enjoyed the preparation time. 

Azalea’s dress had been made by Winky, it was of ivory satin, with an asymmetric hemline being higher on the right side than the left. The skirt fell in diagonal panels edged with lace and decorated with sequins. The bodice had short lacy sleeves a scoop neckline that showed off Severus’ fire emerald necklace to perfection. She wore no hat or veil and carried a small posy of white roses interspersed with green ivy leaves. Lucy’s eyes filled with tears when she looked at her. “You look beautiful,” she said, “I only wish your mother could have lived to see this day.”

Severus was waiting for them at the Register Office when they arrived. It was a modern building with a glass covered walkway leading to the reception area. He was wearing a smart single breasted black suit, with a matching waistcoat, he had on a white shirt and a silk grey tie. His dark hair shone glossy and smooth and he had tied it back into a pony tail so it wouldn’t hide his face when he said his vows. He watched Azalea coming towards him and caught his breath at how beautiful she looked today. She took his hand and smiled up at him saying, “Remind me never to say again that you aren’t handsome.” 

He touched his forehead to hers and replied, “Remind me to tell you every day how beautiful you are.”

Lucy and Beryl started to take photographs of the pair of them and shortly afterwards Azalea and Severus were asked to go to Registrar’s office for the final legal necessities before the ceremony. Once these were done the Registrar showed them the way to the ceremony room where the witnesses were already waiting. They walked down the corridor hand in hand and stopped at the door.

“Are you ready for this?” Azalea asked.

“Yes, absolutely,” Severus replied.

“No doubts? It’s not too late to change your mind,” she said.

“I have no doubts and I do not want to change my mind,” he said with absolute certainty, “Do you?”

“No, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Then we need wait no longer,” he said and pushed open the door. 

The door opened to reveal a long low ceilinged room painted in a soft white with a table at the far end but the room was packed with people sitting on the chairs arranged in rows across the room. Severus and Azalea looked at each other in confusion, they must have walked into the wrong ceremony. Azalea heard her name spoken and saw Lucy and Beryl at the front of the room. She then took note of the other people in the room and started to recognise them. She saw Stuart and his girlfriend, the friend whose wedding she’d attended earlier that year, plus the group of friends from school that she still kept up with, she saw Lucy’s son and his new baby, and Beryl’s children (Azalea’s cousins) even Mrs Thompson was there. “Severus, I know all these people,” she whispered to him, “but how did they find out? I swear I haven’t said a word.”

“We’ll solve that mystery afterwards, right now we have promises to make to each other,” he said.

Severus and Azalea stood side by side and walked the length of the room. They had no idea what the future would hold for them, whether their lives would be short or long, happy or sad, rich or poor but from now on they would meet it together and together they were strong, united in their life, eternal in their love.

The ceremony was short, over in about ten minutes, and in that time Severus and Azalea were legally joined and they couldn’t have been happier. As theirs was the last ceremony of the day, they were not immediately rushed out of the room. Azalea was engulfed by her friends offering their congratulations and chiding her for trying to keep the wedding a secret. She asked how they had found out about it and was told that a couple of weeks ago Stuart had visited the Register Office in connection with some building works his company was to do there. Whilst he had been waiting to be seen he had studied the notices on the board and had seen the announcement that Azalea Bennett was to be married. He knew it must be his friend Azalea Bennett because there was only one Azalea at her address. He had badgered Lucy until she told him the details of the wedding and he had then rallied as many as of their friends as possible to attend. Once the secret was out Lucy and Beryl added their guests to the list.

Despite their wish for a quiet wedding Azalea was secretly pleased that she had been able to share it with so many of her friends. The arrangements didn’t stop there. Her friends had booked space in a nearby restaurant for a celebration meal (every one going Dutch on the cost) and afterwards they went to a pub that had live music that night. Azalea had been sitting next to Severus most of the evening but after a while he slipped away and she heard the lead singer of the band make an announcement. “You may have noticed that there a lot of people here today dressed in their glad rags – that’s because they are celebrating the marriage of Leah and Seb.” Huge cheers erupted from the customers. “In view of their special day I have agreed that Seb can serenade his new wife. Over to you Seb.” He handed the microphone to Severus who refrained from correcting the mistake regarding his name and he paused whilst composing himself to sing. Many of Azalea’s friends had heard him sing before and waited in quiet anticipation - they were not disappointed. He sang a Bryan Adams song – Everything I Do (I Do it for You).

Look into my eyes – you will see  
What you mean to me.  
Search your heart, search your soul  
And when you find me there you’ll search no more.

Don’t tell me it’s not worth tryin’ for.  
You can’t tell me it’s not worth dyin’ for.  
You know it’s true:  
Everything I do, I do it for you.

Look into your heart – you will find  
There’s nothin’ there to hide.  
Take me as I am, take my life.  
I would give it all, I would sacrifice.

Don’t tell me it’s not worth fightin’ for  
I can’t help it, there’s nothin’ I want more  
You know it’s true:  
Everything I do, I do it for you, oh, yeah.

There’s no love like your love  
And no other could give more love.  
There’s nowhere unless you’re there  
All the time, all the way, yeah.

Look into your heart, baby...

Oh, you can’t tell me it’s not worth tryin’ for.  
I can’t help it, there’s nothin’ I want more.

Yeah, I would fight for you, I’d lie for you,  
Walk the wire for you, yeah, I’d die for you.

You know it’s true:  
Everything I do, oh, I do it for you.

Everything I do, darling.  
You will see it’s true.  
You will see it’s true.  
Yeah!  
Search your heart and your soul  
You can’t tell it’s not worth dying for  
I’ll be there  
I’d walk the fire for you  
I’d die for you  
Oh, yeah.  
I’m going all the time, all the way.

Everyone in the pub was amazed by his rendition of the song and no one would have doubted for a minute the sincerity of his feelings for his wife. There were calls for an encore but Severus handed the microphone back to the singer of the band and re-joined Azalea who was overcome with emotion and cried tears of joy onto his new suit. The lead singer of the band knew he had been outclassed and prudently took the opportunity for a break. 

The surprises were not yet over for Azalea and Severus. Her friends had booked a room for them in the pub and as the pub closed they were ushered to the room and left with many lewd comments and advice ringing in their ears. The room was simple but clean and comfortable, Azalea preferred it to the opulence of the room she had taken after the frozen soul incident. Overall Azalea was delighted with the unexpected arrangements for her wedding and thought she wouldn’t have done better if she’d organised it herself. It was the best start to her married life that she could have imagined. 

\--oOo--

The first few weeks after the wedding were fairly uneventful for Severus and Azalea, life carried on as it had before except Azalea was freed from the burden of studying. A week after the wedding Winky had her baby, a boy that she called Benny, after Azalea’s surname of Bennett. Azalea invited Severus, Minerva and Filius out for a meal and a drink to thank them for their help in tutoring her for her NEWTs but only Filius accepted her offer. Azalea varied her plan and asked Hagrid and Sirius (in his polyjuice disguise) to come instead. They went to the Leaky Cauldorn in Diagon Alley and later Tonks and Remus joined them. They had a convivial time with Azalea, Tonks and Filius keeping the levity high but finally Hagrid and Filius had to return to Hogwarts, the OWLs were due to start shortly and they needed to be around to support their students. The remaining four went back to 12 Grimmauld Place. Mrs Black’s portrait grumbled at being disturbed but didn’t rant at them. Tonks coo-ed over Winky’s baby, which surprised Azalea somewhat because she’d never thought of Tonks as the maternal type. Kreacher was unexpectedly protective of the new mother and her baby and told the humans to leave them in peace because the baby needed to sleep. Winky took his concern in good humour and she seemed more at ease with Kreacher now than she had ever been before, it would seem that a baby could soften even the hardest of hearts. 

The humans went to the kitchen and had one more drink to toast the baby’s head. Sirius’s disguise faded and he returned to his normal appearance. Azalea told him that she had tracked down the whereabouts of Peter Pettigrew (she had simply asked Severus) and now they needed to find a way to persuade or coerce him into telling the truth. The four wizards had a long and wide ranging discussion about the best way to do this, before finally settling on obtaining some legal advice about the chances of Sirius’s conviction being set aside if new evidence came forward and whether the new witness could be subpoenaed. Once they had that information they would consider how to get Pettigrew to testify to the truth. They didn’t want to scare him off by approaching him too early.

Finding a wizard lawyer they could trust proved more difficult than Azlaea had expected, she had to be sure that the lawyer was not a Death Eater or under an Imperius curse. She could tell by looking at them if they were enchanted because she would see the glow of magic in them. However, it meant she had to speak each possible lawyer in person to see if they were controlled and to try to assess if they had Death Eater leanings, this she did by way of her legilmancy skills but even this was not fool proof if the lawyer was a good occlumens. Finally she found someone she thought she could trust. 

Whilst at work she learned that a particular patient was due to be admitted to St Mungos the next day which made Azalea worried about what was going on at Hogwarts. She returned to Grimmauld Place and told Sirius about her success in finding a lawyer but also that Professor MgGonagall was going to be transferred to St Mungo’s hospital. She had been hit by four stunning spells when Umbridge was trying to remove Hagrid from Hogwarts although Hagrid had managed to escape. Sirius immediately voiced the same concerns Azalea was having. “That’s Dumbledore, McGonagall and Hagrid removed from Hogwarts, three people who are committed to helping and protecting Harry. We need to get him out of there urgently, he’ll be safer here.”

“I agree,” said Azalea. “He’s got his last OWL exam tomorrow. We won’t say anything today, we don’t need to make him any more anxious than he already is. We’ll bring him home the day afterwards, even if it means kidnapping him.”

That night as Azalea lay in bed she called Severus, ^^You’ve heard the news about McGonagall and Hagrid?^^

^^Yes^^ he replied ^^It’s the main topic of conversation.^^

^^Severus, this leaves you as the only one at Hogwarts to look out for Harry. I want to bring him to Grimmauld Place when he’s finished his OWLs, you will watch out for him won’t you?^^

^^Why do you even need to ask? You know I will^^ he assured her. ^^ I miss you Leah. I thought being married would make it easier to bear your absence but it doesn’t, if anything it’s harder. We should be together and we’re not.^^

^^I miss you too,^^ she replied. ^^It’s nearly the end of term and we have the long summer holidays to be together like a married couple should. I’ll still have to go to work but you can be a house husband and have my dinner ready and waiting for me when I get home.^^

^^I’ll have more than dinner ready and waiting for you when you get home,^^ he said suggestively.

She laughed ^^and I’ll be ready for more than dinner when I come home to you. Goodnight my darling, I could speak to you all night but I’m on early shift tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep.^^

^^Goodnight my love,^^ he replied softly, ^^don’t worry about Potter, I’ll keep an eye on him.^^


	55. Error of Judgement

Snape’s promise to look out for Potter came much sooner that he was expecting. Potter had had some sort of funny turn at the end of his History of Magic examination. He had screamed and fainted. Later he had been caught by Umbridge in her office. Snape was called to Umbridge’s office and when he arrived he was confronted by the sight of Umbridge’s Inquisitorial squad holding captive five friends of Potter - predictably Ginny and Ron Weasley and Granger, but also Lovegood who was looking bored with the proceedings and, to Snape’s mild surprise, Longbottom - perhaps there was hope that the boy could emulate his parents after all. Potter was standing by Umbridge’s desk with the headmistress sitting the other side of it. Umbridge asked Snape to give her a bottle of the truth potion, Veritaserum, as she wished to interrogate Potter who had been trying to communicate with someone by using the fire in her office. Snape told her mildly that he had none left and it would take a month to make some more. He stared at Potter in the way he usually did to intimidate the boy, this time Potter stared back as if trying to communicate something to him mind to mind. No one did that with him except his wife! It still sounded strange and new thinking of Azalea as his wife but somehow completely right. Umbridge repeated her demand that Snape provide her with a potion to force Potter to tell the truth, he refused to help her. He glanced back at Harry and risked using Legilimens to find what was troubling the boy and he picked out the frantic words, “Voldemort’s got Sirius in the Department of Mysteries.”

Umbridge chose that moment to spitefully tell Snape he was on probation and Snape had no opportunity to let Potter know he had understood. Snape allowed himself a momentary fantasy that he was sacked from Hogwarts by Umbridge, he would be unable to keep his promise to Dumbledore through no fault of his own and he could live with Azalea as her househusband or any other way she wanted him to. He was snapped out of his reverie by Potter’s voice saying “He’s got Padfoot at the place where it’s hidden.”

Umbridge, of course, was eager to know what Potter had meant but Snape told her he had no idea. As he opened the door to leave the room he commented to Crabbe, one of Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad, “Loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if you ever apply for a job.” Snape closed the door behind him, once outside he hurried to the edge of Hogwarts so he could disapparate out of the grounds. He thought it unlikely that Voldemort had Sirius at the Department of Mysteries, the place was too well guarded but he needed to contact Black to reassure himself and Potter. He decided he would go to Grimmauld Place to check if Black was there. He would have preferred to have spoken to Black by way of the fire but Umbridge had prevented communication this way throughout Hogwarts except in her own office. He arrived at Grimmauld Place and let himself in. Mrs Black’s portrait began screaming as soon as he went in. Over the sound of her demented ravings he heard the kitchen door slam shut and footsteps coming up the corridor. Azalea came into view and smiled broadly when she saw him. He had forgotten she was on early shift so was home already, now he was glad he’d come in person. Azalea told Mrs Black that Snape was an approved visitor and pulled the curtain over the portrait before giving Severus a welcoming kiss. He reluctantly ended the kiss and came out of her embrace as she asked him the purpose of this unexpected visit.

“I need to know if Black is here,” he said.

“Yes he’s in the kitchen, we’re just about to have something to eat, do want to join us?” she invited him.

Snape was tempted; he loved to snatch any moments he could with Azalea but it wouldn’t be the same with Black in the room and he should inform Potter that Black was safe. “No, I just needed to check. I should be going back now.”

“Oh, OK,” she said and he could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Why did you need to check on Sirius?”

“Potter seemed to think that the Dark Lord was holding Black captive at the Hall of Prophecies.”

“Why ever would Harry think that?” she questioned. “You don’t think Voldemort’s been feeding him false images do you?”

“That’s what I thought,” he confirmed.

“You’d better get straight back to Hogwarts and reassure Harry that Sirius is safe,” Azalea urged him her earlier disappointment gone, “and let me know when Harry’s convinced about Sirius’s safety.”

He kissed her again before leaving longing for the day when he could stay with her. He arrived back at Hogwarts and saw Potter, Grainger and Umbridge entering the Forbidden Forest. If Potter was with Umbridge it would be extremely difficult for him to deliver his message about Sirius without raising her suspicions so he decided to wait until they returned. 

He started to go back to his office when he felt the familiar burning sensation on his left arm. He immediately responded to the summons and apparated to Malfoy Manor. Voldemort had once again assembled his trusted Death Eaters in the drawing room. When they had all arrived - their numbers now increased following the escape of the prisoners from Azkaban - Voldemort spoke to them. “Tonight is the night when we will retrieve the prophecy. Unfortunately I had been misinformed about who can take the prophecy. They are protected magically and can only be lifted from the shelves by the Keeper of the Hall of Prophecies or the subject of the prophecy. Anyone else who attempts to do so will be afflicted with madness. I wasted many months trying to obtain the prophecy but today I set in motion my plan to lure Potter to the Hall of Mysteries and he will give me the orb of prophecy.” Voldemort gazed around the table staring at his followers with his red eyes, some of them shifted uncomfortably. “I of course, could not fetch the prophecy myself. The Ministry of Magic does not yet believe I have returned, it is not part of my plan to make them aware just yet.” The shuffling noises ceased and Voldemort turned to Lucius Malfoy and said, “You have the honour of taking eleven of my Death Eaters with you to retrieve the orb once Potter has removed it from the shelf.” Voldemort levelled his eyes at Snape and said, “You will not be one of the twelve, you must remain at Hogwarts and be above suspicion, your task for me there is not yet done.” 

Snape nodded his acquiescence to his orders and once the meeting was done he returned to Hogwarts where dinner was about to start. He was alarmed to see that Umbridge, Potter and Grainger were not at dinner and neither were Ron and Ginny Weasley, Longbottom or Lovegood. He left the dining room as early as he reasonably could without raising suspicion and hurried to the point in the Forbidden Forest where he had seen Potter enter. He knew the forest routes quite well and lit up his wand so he could see where he was going. He followed a path until it branched into two side turnings and he examined the ground to see if there was any indication as to which path they may have chosen. There were many broken twigs and disturbed surfaces along one of them which made his heart sink. Down this path lay danger and was not a path he would choose to take, especially at night, it was not called the Forbidden Forest for nothing. He set off down the path trying to make as little noise as possible. After a while he came to a clearing, he intensified the light of his wand and noticed at once there had been an altercation. The ground was churned up and he could see blobs of a dark liquid which upon closer inspection he identified as blood. The damage to the ground was quite clearly caused by hooves and there were some spent arrows stuck in the trees. He deduced that the students had met up with the forest Centaurs. He had no idea where they might be or if they were still safe. He stood in the clearing unsure what to do when he heard a soft rustle behind him. He lowered his wand not wanting to appear threatening but still needing the light. An old centaur walked into the clearing and regarded him with interest. Snape remained still and allowed the centaur to study him. At last the centaur said in a slow, doleful voice, “You are her mate.”

“Her mate?” he repeated.

“The human who shines in the stars, the one the house elves call my lady.”

“Yes, I am her mate,” he agreed.

“Did she send you here?” the centaur asked.

“She is concerned for the safety of her kin, the boy with dark hair and glasses. He was here earlier with a girl and an older woman,” he said formally.

“The woman has been subject to centaur justice. The foals flew away on the backs of the winged horses of death to a place called London to rescue one of their own,” the centaur informed him.

Snape had little sympathy for the fate of Umbridge but was extremely concerned for the fate of the students. He thanked the centaur for his help and made to leave the clearing. Before he went, the centaur said, “Tell your lady that the centaurs see her future in the stars.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you for your help.” Snape said and the old centaur melted into the trees whilst Snape hurried back along the path. He had waited too long, he should have risked Umbridge’s anger and told Potter straight away that Black was safe. Now Potter and his friends were flying straight into danger to face a dozen seasoned Death Eaters that the teenagers were ill equipped to deal with. Snape knew he had to alert the Order of the Phoenix as a matter of extreme urgency.

Long ago Dumbledore had given Snape instructions on how to contact him in an emergency if Dumbledore’s whereabouts were unknown. Snape decided this was such an emergency, he produced his patronus using the spell Dumbledore had taught him and sent it on its way to seek out the Headmaster. 

For the second time that day he apparated to Grimmauld Place. By good fortune some of the Order of the Phoenix were there – Kingsley, Moody, Tonks and Lupin plus Black of course. They were all in the kitchen and Azalea was there too. Snape quickly informed them that Potter had been lured by Voldemort to the Hall of Prophecies, once he was there the Dark Lord had ordered twelve Death Eaters to take the prophecy from Potter. Snape began to issue orders, “Moody, Kinsley, Lupin and Tonks go the Ministry and defend the students. I have alerted the Headmaster to the situation. Black you remain here and when Dumbledore arrives inform him of the situation.”

Weeks of frustration at his confinement boiled up inside Sirius coupled with Snape, of all people, trying to give him orders in his own house and he flew into a rage. “I will not take orders from you! You came here earlier today and you knew I was safe. Why didn’t you tell Harry straight away – it’s your delay that’s caused this situation! You’ve accused me of cowardice before and if you think for one minute that I’m going to sit here doing nothing while Harry is in real danger then you are wrong! I don’t hear you volunteering to go so who is the coward now? I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix it’s my duty to go.”

Azalea spoke up, “Sirius, please think about this. You are the Ministry’s most wanted man, if you go there you risk being sent back to Azkaban.”

Sirius calmed at the sound of her voice, he walked around the table so that he stood facing her, held her hands and looked into her worried face. “Leah,” he said gently, “you more than anyone know what my life has been like here, it’s only thanks to you that I haven’t gone completely mad – you’ve helped keep me sane in my isolation. But I am Harry’s godfather, I would be letting down James and Lily if I stay here and don’t even try. I must go, you know I must, and if I get sent back to Azkaban, I do it with a clear conscious knowing that it was to save Harry; his life is worth more to me than another stint in Azkaban.”

Azalea squeezed Sirius’ hands and leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “You go then my friend, and may your wand shoot straight and true.” Sirius gave a triumphant glance over to Snape and ran from the room.

Snape was seething at the exchange he’d just witnessed. Azalea said to him, “Sirius had a point, why hadn’t you told Harry that he was safe?”

Snape pulled her into an embrace trying to wipe away the taint he thought she had from touching Black. “He had gone somewhere with Umbridge and I didn’t want to speak to him in front of her. I am genuinely sorry for my error of judgement – I should have risked Umbridge’s wrath and told Harry that Black was safe when I first saw him. Then I was summoned to a meeting with the Dark Lord. It was he who told me not to go to the Hall of Mysteries. I am not a coward Leah,” he stated firmly.

“I know you’re not and neither am I,” she said. “I shall go and help defend the students against the Death Eaters.”

“No!” he shouted, “you’re not going!”

He felt Azalea tense up in his arms and she said quietly, “I’m not a member of the Order of the Phoenix, you can’t stop me from going.”

“No,” he said hotly “I can’t forbid as you a member of the Order of the Phoenix but as your husband..”

Azalea pulled back and glared at him, her eyes flashing red and she said in a tightly controlled voice, “You’d better consider your next words very carefully.”

Severus paused and rethought what he’d been about to say and spoke gently, “As your husband I won’t willingly stand by and see you walk into danger.”

Azalea visibly relaxed having averted a potential confrontation. “I think I can look after myself. Since my soul was frozen I find I have to rein myself in and I’ve had duelling lessons from Filius and know how to defend myself.”

“A competitive duel is very different from a real fight, the same rules don’t apply; in fact no rules apply when you’re fighting for your life,” he warned her anxiously feeling more fear for her than he ever felt for himself. “A battle is not just about defence, you need to be prepared to cause injury to your enemies.”

“I understand that, but I have to go and do what I can to protect Harry.”

“Leah, I can’t go with you. Voldemort has told me to stay away. If I went, I would kill anyone who tried to hurt you, I wouldn’t know whose side I was meant to be on,” he said in anguish.

“I’m not asking you to go,” she said, then added in a lighter tone, “and you forget - I am always on the winning side.”

“Don’t be flippant about prophecies,” he reprimanded her, “it’s the Dark Lord’s obsession with this one which has led us to this situation.”

“All right, I’m sorry. I don’t believe in prophecies anyway.” Azalea summoned her wand and held it securely in her hand. “Wish me luck,” she said and pulled Severus to her and kissed him before he could answer. “I love you,” she murmured and stepped apart from him to get ready to disapparate.

“I love you too,” he replied. “Please don’t try and be a hero, get out of there as soon as you can, contact me when it’s over, I won’t rest until I know that you’re safe.”

“I will, I promise – keep the bed warm for me,” she smiled and with a cracking sound she was gone and he was alone in the kitchen. He returned to Hogwarts and waited in his office for some word from Azalea. He decided not to contact her using their telepathic link in case it distracted her and put her in danger. The next few of hours were among the most anxious he could remember, he tried to occupy himself by marking students’ work and setting lesson plans but he couldn’t concentrate and gave up after a few minutes. Instead he decided to do a stock check of his potions and found the routine and simplicity of the task made it easier to avoid dwelling on the danger that Azalea had walked into.


	56. Battle of the Ministry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time for Azalea to say farewell to Sirius

Azalea apparated directly into the Hall of Prophecies, unlike the Order of the Phoenix Members who had gone in through the front door of the Ministry and were currently making their way down to level 9. In the Hall of Prophecies she was greeted by a scene of chaos and destruction. The room contained rows of shelves holding hundreds, if not thousands, of transparent orbs and she could see the glow of magic. Many of the shelves had been toppled over and the floor was covered with broken glass as if the proverbial bull had indeed been in a china shop. She could hear sounds of wand fire and shouts coming from one end of the room and she raced between the fallen shelves, levitating as she went to avoid treading on the broken glass. As a precaution she shielded herself with a concealment charm, the one she used when she went on trips with Sirius, whereby she went unnoticed unless she acted in a way to draw attention to herself. At the end of the Hall of Prophecies was an area full of clocks of all designs and sizes but most bizarre of all was the sight of a fully grown man with a bell jar over his head, like a space helmet. He was stumbling around the room and as Azalea watched in horrified fascination she saw his head grow progressively younger until there was the head of a baby on the body of an adult. The effect began to reverse and the head began to age until it was that of an old man. Azalea raced past him, she had no time to investigate but knew by the shape of the body and the clothes he was wearing it was not one of the students or one of the Order of the Phoenix wizards. 

The sounds she had heard earlier were now louder and coming through an open door off the clock chamber, she stepped through it and found herself in a large circular room, every surface the same shade of black. Set around the walls were candles shedding a blue light like moonlight. She could see several doors off the chamber, one was open and she rushed into it. She had entered a long rectangular room with lamps hanging from the ceiling by chains. In the centre of the room stood an enormous tank of deep green water, like the sort found in aquaria, but the fish swimming in this tank were like no fish Azalea had ever seen. She paid them no further notice because she saw that all the students except Harry were in the room. Ron was struggling with one of objects from the tank that Azalea could now see was a disembodied brain. She removed it from him with a wave of her wand and dumped it back in the tank. She rushed over to the teenagers who were lying prone on the floor – Luna, Hermione and Ginny. All three were unconscious but alive, Ginny’s ankle was swollen and after a quick check Azalea could tell it was broken, she had no time to heal it properly because out of the corner of her eye she could see Neville running through one of the doors that were set in the walls of the tank room, calling Harry’s name as he went. Azalea swiftly immobilised Ginny’s ankle to prevent further damage. She cast a shield spell over the students to protect them from stray or misfired spells and ran out of the room through the same door that Neville had taken. 

This time Azalea saw the room she was in was like an ancient amphitheatre, stone benches arranged in a circle descending steeply to surround a stage. At the centre of the stage was a raised stone dais on which stood a stone archway apparently leading nowhere and over it hung a tattered veil trembling like a leaf in a gentle breeze. The play about to unfold on this stage was not a work of fiction. Harry was leaning against the stone dais. Neville was scrambling down the seats trying to cast spells and not succeeding because he had a broken nose and couldn’t pronounce the spells correctly. Ignoring Neville, several Death Eaters leapt down the steps towards Harry. Careful not to dislodge her concealment charm Azalea tip toed down the benches towards Harry. 

Suddenly a scream split the air and Azalea looked across to see where it had come from. Neville was lying on the ground twitching and screaming as a gaunt faced, mad eyed woman pointed her wand at him and threatened to do more of the same if Harry didn’t hand over the prophecy. Slowly Harry reached out his hand holding the orb and one of the Death Eaters stepped forward to take it. Azalea was almost at a level with Harry and didn’t yet want to break her cover and lose the element of surprise. She didn’t need to - at that point high above them, two doors burst open and five people sprinted into the room:- Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley. The cavalry has arrived in the nick of time Azalea thought to herself and continued her stealthy progress towards the dais. Azalea was starting to feel power well up inside of her and she struggled to control it. She couldn’t risk a mighty blast which would be indiscriminate in who it took out, instead she had to content herself with tightly targeted spells aimed at the Death Eaters. The fighting around her was thick and fast, she saw a Death Eater had a hold of Harry around his neck, before she could redirect her spells towards him, Neville stabbed the Death Eater in the eye with a wand. Azalea smiled to herself, sometimes street fighting tactics could be as effective as magic. She saw Sirius fight his way to Harry’s side and let him continue to do so. She had never seen Sirius so animated, in his element, finally getting the chance to do something practical in protecting Harry. She saw him shout to Harry to take Neville, the prophecy and get out of here, before he dashed off to meet the gaunt faced woman that had tortured Neville earlier. Harry and Neville hastened to comply but were confronted by the leader of the Death Eaters. Azalea saw Remus intervene and command Harry to round up the other students and leave, Azalea decided to follow the boys to give what protection she could. As the boys struggled to get up the stone benches a glass orb flew out of Neville’s pocket and landed inches from where Azalea was standing. It smashed to pieces on the hard stone floor. As it broke a pearly white figure with eyes magnified by bottle bottom glasses rose from the broken remains of the orb and Azalea heard the figure intone the words; “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.” As the figure finished speaking it dissolved into nothing. 

Azalea heard someone shout “Dumbeldore!” She looked up and saw the Headmaster running down the steps and lasso a Death Eater with a spell which shot out of his wand like a fishing line. Azalea took note of the colours of the spell and the incantation she had heard him use with the intention to try it out for herself. Before she did so she heard Sirius’s laughter ring out over the silence that had descended when Dumbledore arrived and he shouted out to the woman he was duelling with on the dais, “Come on, you can do better than that!” It seemed that she could and a jet of light from her wand hit him squarely in the chest. A look of shock appeared on his face, he fell back in a graceful arc and sank through the softly waving veil that covered the arch. Azalea broke her cover and ran toward the arch at the same time as Harry did, both of them screaming Sirius’s name. 

As Harry reached the arch he shouted “Get him, save him, he’s only just gone through!” 

Lupin grabbed hold of Harry around the chest, holding him back saying “It’s too late Harry, there’s nothing we can do.”

“I’ll go after him!” Azalea shouted to Harry and she leapt through the arch.

As she dived in she heard Remus calling, “Leah! Leah!” 

Azalea felt herself falling and Remus’s voice faded into the distance. She had jumped into the arch feet first expecting the level to be the same on the other side. She had once done a parachute jump, but this fall was nothing like jumping from an aeroplane with the air rushing by and the wind making your clothing flap like washing on a line, instead she fell, slowly as if through thick treacle. Her speed was constant on the way down, there was no ground rushing to meet her. She landed elegantly on both feet, flexing her knees to absorb the impact, it had been no worse than jumping down from a chair. She looked around her, she was surrounded by a thick fog, which was warm and clung lightly to her clothes making them bejewelled with droplets of water. She listened and could hear nothing, only silence. “Sirius,” she tentatively called, “are you here?” Still nothing. She took a cautious step forward feeling for the ground before she put her weight down on the leading foot. She had no idea which direction she should take, it was all too easy to become disorientated in fog and walk around in circles. She emptied her mind and tried to feel if one way felt better than another. As she turned on the spot she felt more of an urge to go in one direction that in the others. Having no other guide she opted for that direction. Whenever she thought she was losing her way, she repeated the mind emptying as if it were a diviner to point her in the right direction. As she progressed into the fog in her chosen direction she fancied it was becoming thinner and that she could see a light in the distance. She walked more quickly towards the light and saw that she was correct - the visibility was improving. 

All at once she stepped out of the fog, into clear air. Looking behind her she could see that the fog hadn’t petered out but had stopped abruptly and looked like a wall made of cotton wool. Ahead of her were a pair of tall pearlescent gates patterned with filigree. Standing behind it was a wizard, he looked ageless and was clad in a long white robe, he held a wand in one hand and a large scroll in the other. Standing on the same side of the gate as she was, Azalea could see a dark haired, lean man who she recognised instantly. She ran over to him. “Sirius, there you are,” she called. He turned round slowly and she saw he had a livid wound on his chest surrounded by his scorched clothing. She reached him and put her hand to the wound, “Let me heal you.” she said.

He removed her hand saying, “It’s too late for that.”

“What do you mean?” she said putting her hand back and searching with her mind for the life forces within his body that she used as part of the healing process. “Sirius, I can’t feel your heartbeat,” she told him.

“His heart no longer beats, there is no need of it here,” said a sonorous voice.

Azalea swung in the direction of the speaker, the wizard the other side of the gate. “Why not? Where is this place and who are you?” she demanded.

“The living cannot enter this place. This is the gate to the afterlife and I am Lapis, Guardian of the Gate,” he replied.

Azalea snorted, “I suppose that makes sense. That’s why you’re dressed like Saint Peter standing by the Pearly Gates.”

“Is that how you see me?” Lapis asked. “Each person sees what they expect to see.”

“I’ve come to take Sirius back,” she said.

“He cannot return to your world except as a shade of himself – a ghost – if you like,” Lapis said with a measure of sympathy. “As for you, the living should not be here, you will be trapped on that side of the gate unable to return to your life, unless you pay the price.”

“Then I shall pay the price and I’ll pay for Sirius too.” She faced Sirius, “I’m not leaving without you” she said stubbornly. “Harry needs you, he wants me to save you.”

Sirius spoke, “Leah, I am ready to move on, to go behind the gate. I don’t want to return to earth as a ghost.”

“But Harry…” she started to say.

Sirius looked through the gate with a wistful and longing expression on his face. “Leah, I can hear them calling to me. I want to move on, my time is done.”

“Sirius, I don’t want you to move on, I’ll miss you” she said forlornly.

“Leah,” he said gently, “I must move on and you must go back, for Harry, and,” he added, “for your prince. You can’t stay here, it is not yet your time.”

“When will it be my time?” she asked.

Lapis responded to her question, “Your time is when your life ends.”

Azalea considered that to be a most unhelpful but fairly obvious reply. She understood now that Sirius’s life had really ended and he wanted to move on, it was selfish of her to try to persuade him to come back as a ghost. He had reminded her of the need to go back for Harry and Severus – her prince among men. She spoke to Lapis, “How do I return?”

“You must pay the price. If you do not, you will remain here between life and death unable to go back to your life or to move forward into the afterlife.”

If Sirius couldn’t come back she knew she couldn’t stay here, stuck in limbo when there was more to do before it was her time. “And what is this price?” she asked.

“Each person must pay a different price,” began Lapis.

“Do you get many living people finding their way here?” asked Azalea curiously.

“Not so many as in the past,” admitted Lapis.

Sirius interjected, “That’s because the arch and veil are kept securely in the Department of Mysteries so there is less likelihood of someone falling through.”

“Why do you need an interface between the worlds of the living and the dead?” Azalea asked, “Especially if you are going to demand a price from someone who may have accidentally found their way here?”

“The Veil works both ways,” explained Lapis, “It was originally constructed to allow the dead to assist the living and still serves that purpose. The price to be paid depends upon the reasons the living find their way here.”

“What price must I pay?” Azalea enquired.

“You motives for coming were triggered by love, compassion and a desire to save a life. The price you must pay is to pass on the information you have which will help the dead protect the living when the time comes.” Lapis told her.

“Sorry, but you’ll need to more explicit, what information do you mean?” Azalea asked.

Lapis sighed, it was more fun in the old times when you gave someone a riddle and could watch them try to work out its meaning, now they just asked for the explanation. “The prophecy,” he said resignedly, “tell Sirius the prophecy.”

Azalea repeated the prophecy word for word, fortunately her eidetic memory for spells seemed to cover magical prophecies as well. 

“That’s it you can go now,” Lapis instructed.

“How do I do that?” Azalea asked, “Do I click my heels together three times and say “there’s no place like home?”

“If you wish, or you can just walk through the archway over there,” he said indicating behind her. The fog had now cleared and the arch was clearly visible a few feet away.

Azalea suddenly realised that this was the last time she would see Sirius and she embraced him tightly. “I have to go,” she said.

“I know you do, that’s what I’ve been telling you,” he replied, “and I have to go too. See, they’ve come to meet me.”

She looked in the direction he was pointing on the other side of the gate she could see three indistinct shadowy figures glowing with a bright white light coming closer. Lapis called to Sirius and he gave Azalea final hug saying, “Have a good life, Leah. We will meet again one day and you can tell me all the things you did. Tell Harry not to grieve too much for me, I willingly gave my life to save his. He is a fine boy and will grow up to be a better man than I was.” Sirius walked to the gate which swung open to admit him. Using the tip of his wand like a marker pen, Lapis crossed Sirius’s name from the list on the scroll he was holding and Sirius walked confidently through the gate without looking back. As he approached the three figures that had come to meet him, he started to glow and the light became brighter until he was indistinguishable from the others. Azalea watched him until he moved out sight, she looked at Lapis gave him a small nod and walked to the arch and stepped through it.

She landed with a jolt on the other side. She looked around and quickly assessed the situation, nothing seemed to have changed; it was as if virtually no time had passed whilst she’d been gone. Harry and Remus had moved further from the dais, Dumbledore was still roping in the Death Eaters. Azalea saw one at the top of the room and using the same spell Dumbledore had used, she caught him and threw him to join the others. She saw a figure lying unmoving on the floor and recognised it as Tonks. Moody was making his way towards her prone body. Leaving Dumbledore to deal with the remaining Death Eaters, Azalea rushed up to them. She noticed Moody had a cut to his head and went to heal it. He brushed her hand away, “It’s just a scratch,” he said, “Tonks is in more need for your help than I am.”

She saw Tonks had a wound like Sirius’s and Azalea suddenly felt overcome by the loss one of her friends, she wasn’t about to lose another one. Azalea placed her hands over the injury, she could tell Tonks was still alive but her life was slipping away. Azalea felt anger and frustration which increased the power inside her in the way that it had often did since her soul had been frozen. Usually she tried to suppress it but this time she decided to utilise it to try to help Tonks. If she did nothing Tonks would be dead long before she could get to St Mungos. Azalea controlled her mind and focussed the power on increasing Tonks’ life force and using it to repair the damage the spell had caused to Tonks’ body.

Moody had retrieved his magic eye which had fallen out during the battle and was watching her. With the aid of his eye he could see the magic forces emanating from Azalea as she poured her gift for healing into Tonks. He had never seen such power before, the only person who came close was Dumbledore. He must be sure to let Dumbledore know so that the Headmaster could train her to use it wisely. Azalea withdrew her hands from Tonks and the magical glow surrounded her faded from his view and her appearance returned to normal. “I’ve stabilised her,” Azalea told Moody, “but she needs to get to hospital, she still has a long road to recovery that only time and rest can cure.” 

The noise of the battle had subsided, and just Kingsley and the woman who had killed Sirius were still fighting. Azalea heard Kingsley yell out in pain and Remus cry out “Harry – no!” followed by Harry’s voice shouting, “She killed Sirius! She killed him! I’ll kill her!” Azalea looked in the direction of the voices, Remus caught her eye and then suddenly noticed Tonks lying still next to her. He appeared torn as to which way to go but raced up the benches to her side. He stared at Tonks in anguish and flicked his eyes back to Azalea in a mute appeal for information. Azalea touched his arm and said gently, “She’s alive. You stay with her until it’s safe to take her to St Mungos. I’ll go after Harry.” Remus nodded and Azalea stood up to see where Harry had gone. She knew she should speak to Harry to tell him about her encounter with Sirius, that he was now at peace and wouldn’t want Harry to avenge his death.

She raced off in the direction she had seen Harry go and came to the brain room where the other students were slowly recovering, “Which way did Harry go?” she asked them all in general. Ginny pointed to a particular door and Azalea rushed through it. She was in the dark circular lobby with many doors but Harry wasn’t there, he must have already left. The room began to rotate to try make her lose her bearings, she had no time for this nonsense and shouted, “Stop! Show me the way out!” As if in obedience to her command the room stopped rotating and a door opened, she saw it led to a straight corridor which was several yards long before turning sharply to the right, she could hear footsteps running and the sound of a lift in the distance. She ran the length of the corridor, upon turning the corner she could see a row of lifts at the end. None of them were open on this floor but she could see from the floor indicator lights above each lift that two of them had stopped at the level of the atrium. She pushed the button to call a lift to this floor and waited impatiently for one to arrive. When it came she jumped into it and rode it up to the Atrium. The door opened and Azalea saw she had arrived at a long hall with a highly polished floor of dark coloured timber, the walls were panelled with a similar material and the ceiling was peacock blue, only the size of the Atrium prevented the colour scheme from seeming oppressive. In the middle of the atrium was a fountain constructed as a large set of golden statues and set in the centre of a pool. The statues were of a noble looking wizard and a beautiful witch who were being stared at adoringly by statues of a centaur, a goblin and a house elf. In Azalea’s view the only one of those creatures who might look at a wizard in that fashion were the house elves and that was only because they had been bred by wizards to do so. It took Azalea only an instant to take this all in. Her attention went straight to the unfolding scene in front of her between Harry and the witch that had killed Sirius. 

Harry was sheltering behind the fountain and had fired a “Crucio” spell at the witch, it knocked her off her feet but didn’t incapacitate her. She shot a spell back at him but it missed Harry and blew off the head of the statue of the wizard. Azalea used the concealment charm on herself again and crept quietly up the hallway seeking a better position to be in to protect Harry, although she had to admit he was doing a creditable job in defending himself. The statue had taken several hits and the figures now looked as though they had been in the fight too. Harry and the witch were having a shouted conversation and the witch demanded that Harry gave her the prophecy. With an hysterical laugh Harry informed her it had broken. By now Azalea was close enough to Harry to see that he seemed to be in pain, he was screwing up his eyes as if he had a searing headache. The witch was pleading with someone, “Master, I tried, I tried ..do not punish me –“.

“Don’t waste your breath,” Harry shouted back at her “He can’t hear you from here!”

A new voice entered the conversation, a high cold voice, saying, “Can’t I, Potter?”

Azalea slowly turned her head towards the speaker who had just arrived and for first time in her life looked upon the face of her grandfather.


	57. After the Battle

Severus had described to Azalea what Voldemort looked but it had not prepared her for the reality of his appearance. There was no trace of Mrs Thompson’s description of the most handsome she had ever seen. He resembled an alien, he was so thin he looked emaciated - an impression emphasised by his height, but it was his face that drew Azalea’s attention: snake like and gaunt, red eyes with black slits for pupils, no hair remained on his head or face and there was no definition between his lips and the rest of his face. Voldemort hadn’t yet lived the length of a mortal span of life and if this was the price for immortality then Azalea wanted none of it.

While she had been observing Voldemort she was listening to him speak, he had addressed the witch as Bella and at once Azalea knew that witch must be Bellatrix Lastrange, Sirius’s cousin. The woman must indeed be in thrall to Voldemort if she had taken such pride and delight in killing her own cousin. Voldemort was now talking to Harry, “I have nothing more to say to you, Potter. You have irked me too often, for too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Harry had frozen where he stood but Azalea reacted instantly and animated the headless golden statue of the wizard, so that it leapt from its plinth and landed on the floor with a crash between Harry and Voldemort. Voldemort’s spell glanced off its chest as the statue flung out its arms, protecting Harry. Voldemort spun around on the spot where he was standing and stared in all directions, he overlooked Azalea, her concealment charm still working, and saw instead Dumbledore standing by the gates at the entrance to the atrium. Voldemort threw a jet of green light from his wand towards Dumbledore who easily evaded it. Dumbledore took a leaf from Azalea’s book and animated the rest of the statues on the fountain to confuse Voldemort and Bellatrix. The tactic didn’t distract Voldemort for long and soon Dumbledore and the Dark Lord were engaged in a fight.

Azalea concentrated on keeping the headless wizard in front of Harry and she cast a further shield charm around him for added protection. The fight between Voldemort and Dumbledore raged on around Harry and Azalea but it was clear to Azalea that Dumbledore was the better of the two, even so, Voldemort got lucky and the battle would have turned in his favour had not Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix, taken a shot meant for Dumbledore. Fawkes was not killed but had burst into flame to reappear as a hatchling. “Now that’s the sort of immortality Voldemort should have sought,” thought Azalea, “not the corrupted and evil method he had chosen.”

Dumbledore forced Voldemort into the fountain and tried to drown him, but Voldemort disappeared from the water encasing him and Bellatrix called out in anguish “Master!” Both Azalea and Harry thought it was all over and Voldemort had fled, Harry dashed out from behind the statue that had been protecting him but Voldemort had one more trick up his sleeve. Using the mental link between himself and Harry he took control of Harry’s mind and made him speak. Azalea could see the colour of magic that indicated a possession and knew it was not Harry speaking. She heard Voldemort’s words come from Harry’s mouth. “Kill me now, Dumbledore. If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy. …”

She found her way next to Harry and whispered to him, “Sirius died to save you, little cousin, don’t let his sacrifice be in vain. You will see him again but now is not your time.”

As the thought of seeing Sirius again reached Harry’s mind he was flooded with emotion and Azalea saw Voldemort’s possession of him end in an instant. Harry was back in his own mind. Dumbledore arrived next to Harry and leaned over him so when Harry regained consciousness his would be the first face Harry saw. Azalea made to move away still protected by her concealment charm. To her surprise Dumbledore spoke to her, “I need to explain some things to Harry to help him understand what has happened here today. You will both have time afterwards to grieve for those we have lost. Leave him in my care tonight please, Miss Bennett.”

Azalea nodded her agreement and stood up slowly, still unnoticed by the crowd of people who had just arrived, one of them being the Minister of Magic. She waited, watching Dumbledore berating the minister for not believing him about the return of Voldemort. Dumbledore told them that after he’d sent Harry back to school, he would give them half an hour of his time explain what had occurred. He made a portkey from the head of the wizard statue, Harry grabbed onto it and was gone. After Harry’s departure Dumbledore started to explain what had happened. 

Azalea listened for a couple of minutes but became overwhelmed with grief when Dumbledore mentioned that one of his people had died that night. Unlike Harry, she had been given the opportunity to say goodbye to Sirius but she felt his loss all over again, he was really gone. She would never see him again, never take him on excursions and listen to his stories of the past and his hopes for the future, never hear him tell her how proud he was of Harry. She had lost a dear friend and she was overcome with sadness. She looked around her and saw the destruction that this night’s events had caused, she recalled the injured – Tonks, Ginny, Moody – she thought about her own role in the events and suddenly there was only one place she wanted to be, only one person she wanted to comfort her in her sorrow and pain, someone she had promised to let him know as soon as it was all over.

Azalea snapped into appearance in Severus’s office. He was sitting at a table surrounded by bottles and boxes which he was sorting out and compiling into a list. He stopped work as soon as he heard her enter. He jumped up from his seat and strode across the room to engulf her into his arms. She was dishevelled and she had dust in her hair. The robes she wore were torn around the hem and spattered with blood, which as far he could tell was not hers. She clung to him, her head resting on his shoulder and her body started to tremble as she sobbed. He spoke gently over the top of her head. “You made it, you’ve come back to me, thank goodness you’re alive. I’ve been out of my mind with worry.” He held her tightly until the sobs subsided and she lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him with her tear stained face. “Tell me what happened,” he asked her.

She said “I don’t want to talk about it. Harry is safe that’s all I say. When I left Professor Dumbledore was sorting things out.” She paused as if organising her thoughts then said passionately, “Severus, I love you. I don’t know how I would live without you. Promise me you’ll never leave me.”

He tilted her face so he could look into her eyes, “Of course I’ll never leave you. Until death do us part – remember.”

“We didn’t actually say that vow when we got married,” she pedantically corrected him.

“I’m saying it now,” he said gently. 

To his surprise his words didn’t comfort her and her eyes filled with tears. She brushed her hand over her eyes and she pulled him roughly towards her saying in a broken voice, “Severus, I need you. I want to make love with you and forget about tonight. I want only to feel you inside me - body and mind. I want to think only of love and life and not of war and destruction. Please, please help me,” she implored him.

He could deny her nothing and this was a request he could easily fulfil. He locked the door to the office and carried her to the bedroom, where he locked that door too. He laid her down on the bed and she fumbled urgently at his clothes before giving up and waving her hand so that they were both undressed in an instant. As they made love, Snape noticed Azalea was responding with a frenzied and almost mechanical urgency she had never displayed before. Azalea mind merged with Severus and filled her mind and body with physical sensations which drove other thoughts and memories from her albeit on a temporary basis. Even so, Severus thought she was holding something back. Finally, Azalea felt emotionally and physically drained and fell into dreamless sleep. Severus regarded her wondering why she had acted in this way, he pulled the bed covers over her, he lay down next to her feeling the warmth radiate from her body and he slipped into a doze.

When he awoke he saw that Azalea was sound asleep beside him. She looked peaceful, unlike her agitated state when she had first arrived. Suddenly he was anxious to know the details about what has happened. He recalled her saying that Dumbledore had been there, he reasoned that with Umbridge now missing in the Forbidden Forest, Dumbledore would have returned to his office at Hogwarts. Snape glanced at the clock in his room, it was early in the morning and most of the students would still be asleep but he thought it likely that the headmaster would be up and awake. Snape slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Azalea, and had a quick shower; he did not want to turn up at Dumbledore’s office smelling of sleep, sweat and sex. 

He arrived at the headmaster’s office and knocked on the door, the door swung open and revealed Dumbledore sitting at his desk, studying some papers, a pot of tea was on the desk beside him. Snape noticed that some of the tables which furnished the room had been upturned and damaged. The Headmaster looked up to see who had entered. “Ah, Severus,” he said genially, “you’re up early, what is on your mind?”

“I am concerned for the students and the members of the Order of the Phoenix who I sent to the Ministry of Magic to help them. What happened?” Snape asked.

Dumbledore invited Snape to take a seat then said, “Harry is unharmed. Hermione, Neville, Luna, Ginny and Ron are all in the hospital wing. Tonks is at St Mungos but the Order lost a member tonight,” he paused for a second before continuing sadly, “Sirius Black was killed by Bellatrix Lastrange.”

“What? Black dead?” said Snape in shock and the realisation that it was mainly this that had caused Azalea’s distress and a small part of him felt as if she had used him to assuage her grief about another man’s death.

“Yes, he was defending Harry and died with honour. As you might expect Harry is distraught. Sirius fell into the Veil and we can’t even retrieve his body for burial and a proper goodbye. Although,” he added thoughtfully, “Your Miss Bennett jumped into the Veil after him.”

“She did what?” Snape exclaimed in horror at her foolhardiness, “She could have been lost forever.”

Dumbledore observed three things from this exchange. Snape had not contradicted him when he referred to Azalea as “your Miss Bennett”, he was not surprised that she had been at the battle and he had known that Azalea had not perished in the Veil. 

“She seems to have luck on her side. The Veil spat her out.” Dumbledore said to cover the point of Azalea’s survival before Snape realised his mistake.

“Did the Dark Lord obtain the prophecy?” Snape asked, now wanting to know the full story.

“No, it broke before his Death Eaters could retrieve it, no one heard it over the noise of the battle,” Dumbledore told him.

“The Dark Lord will not be pleased,” Snape commented.

“He wasn’t,” Dumbledore said. “He came in person to the Ministry of Magic and when he discovered the prophecy had gone, he tried to kill Harry. It was only Miss Bennett’s quick thinking that saved Harry. I was occupied with fighting Voldemort and Miss Bennett remained out of sight and protected Harry. I was grateful for her assistance.”

“You can’t do everything unaided,” Snape told the Headmaster.

“No, indeed I can’t,” Dumbledore agreed, “She also helped me to round up eleven of the Death Eaters and I left them in the care of the Ministry of Magic. Unfortunately, Voldemort took Bellatrix with him when he escaped. On the positive side, there is now no doubt in the mind of the Minister of Magic that Voldemort is back, so we need no longer expend energy on convincing him. The Order of the Phoenix has succeeded in that aspect of our task.”

“But,” said Snape gloomily, “there is no longer a reason for the Dark Lord to keep a low profile. The war will now begin in earnest.”

“I fear you are correct, my friend,” said Dumbledore, “there are dark days ahead of us, we must be brave and committed to our purpose. Many will be lost in the fighting. We must protect those who have a part to play in the events and also those in our charge who don’t. I know can count on you to continue to play your part in this dangerous game we are in, but I must also be assured that you will do your best to protect Hogwarts’ students should the worst occur and Hogwarts falls to Voldemort’s control.”

“Yes, Albus, you can count on me to do both those things. Until my last breath I will protect the students and people I care about.”

“Thank you, Severus. You ease an old man’s mind with your words.” 

Snape returned to his quarters where Azalea was still sleeping. He wanted to wake her up and berate her for taking such a stupid risk by going into the Veil and for Black of all people. He thought about her actions and asked himself if he would have done the same? For Black definitely not, for Azalea undoubtedly, for Potter, probably. He considered all the risks he’d already taken for Potter, the injuries he’d sustained, the lies he’d told, the verbal abuse he’d endured, the arguments he’d had and he began to understand why she’d done it. Azalea had at least liked Black (why she did was something he would never be able to fathom) but he, Snape, did those things as an obligation. More than anything he wanted to be free of that obligation, to take Azalea away and live their lives together. That time had not yet arrived and he had just promised Dumbledore that he would stay to protect the students, most of whom he didn’t like, but he knew it had been the right thing to do. 

Azalea stirred and slowly woke up, he sat on the bed next to her, she smiled up at him, “You’re already up and dressed. What time is it?” She looked in the direction of the clock. “Oh it’s still quite early. I’ll go home to get changed before I go to work, I won’t make you late for breakfast.” The memory of the previous day came back to her and eyes filled with tears, “I didn’t tell you last night, Sirius was killed at the Ministry. I suppose Grimmauld Place isn’t my home any more, it won’t feel like it if Sirius isn’t there.”

“Your home is with me,” he said. “Over the holidays we shall live at Spinners End. No one ever visits me there, we’ll be safe from prying eyes.”

“And from lodgers,” she added, “I shall enjoy having you all to myself. Let’s go away on holiday too. A muggle holiday – somewhere warm and sunny.”

“The full muggle experience?” he asked.

“Yes and don’t forget to bring those Speedos I bought you last Christmas.”

“I won’t forget,” he smiled pleased to see that her mood had lightened. He kissed her briefly on the lips, “Go and have a shower and then it’s off to work with you.”

She laughed at his attempt to jolly her out of her sadness and put on a brave face as she followed his instructions. She knew she would tell him the full story of the events of last night but when they had more time and when the grief wasn’t quite as raw but she needed to see Harry first.

It wasn’t until the last day of term that Azalea managed to speak to Harry. Events had conspired to keep prevent her visiting Hogwarts any sooner but on the last day of term she knew she had to make the time. She apparated to the outskirts of Hogwarts and walked up to the front door. She could hear the sound of many voices coming from the Great Hall in anticipation of the end of term feast. Azalea had come prepared with the means to locate Harry among all the students in Hogwarts and pulled out from her pocket the marauders map she had made with Sirius over a year ago. Using the search function that she had added to improve the way it could be used she quickly spotted Harry in the corridor of the Fat Lady, Luna was also there. Azalea hurried to the location hoping to speak to Harry before he joined the other students in the Great Hall. She intercepted him long before he reached the Hall. “Harry!” she called out to him. He stopped at the sound of his name.

“Oh Azalea, it’s you. What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I wanted to talk to you – about Sirius,” she said.

He pushed past her, “I don’t want to talk about him,” he said angrily.

“I saw him,” she said at his retreating back, “when I went into the Veil. I spoke to him.” 

Harry stopped and walked back towards her curious to know what had happened. As he came closer to her Azalea noticed how much he had grown in since they had first met, he was now taller than she was and the trials of the past few weeks had made his face seem older than that of a nearly 16 year old boy.

“He hadn’t expected to die,” she said to Harry, “but he was so frustrated with waiting at home feeling as if he was useless.”

“He wasn’t useless!” Harry interjected.

“I know he wasn’t but he was a man of action, someone who wanted to be in the centre of what was going on, he couldn’t have lived with himself if you were in danger and he hadn’t even tried to help.”

“That’s was Hagrid said,” Harry mumbled.

“And he was right. When I saw Sirius beyond the veil, I begged him to come back with me, but if he had come back it would have been as a shade of himself, like a ghost. He didn’t want that, he said he was ready to move on and that he could hear them calling to him,” Azalea said.

“Hear who calling for him?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know, I couldn’t make out who they were, all I could see were three glowing figures like angels on the other side of the gate. Sirius said to tell you he willingly gave his life for you and he wants you to grow up to be a better man than he was.”

Harry’s eyes welled up with tears, “I didn’t want him to die for me, I don’t want anybody to die for me; too many already have.”

“I know Harry and I fear that many more will die before this is all over. But remember none of this is your fault. You didn’t ask for this happen to you, it was Voldemort and his belief in that prophecy. He’s the one who took away your parents, he’s the one who’s blighted your life and, it has to be said, the lives of many others.”

“It is my fault that Sirius is dead,” said Harry. “I shouldn’t have believed the vision that Voldemort sent to me and then I led my friends into danger and it was all for a lie.”

“Voldemort is a consummate liar, he’s fooled many people who have more experience than you, don’t blame yourself.”

“Then I’ll blame Snape,” said Harry vehemently. “He knew that Sirius was safe and he didn’t tell anyone. If he’d told me straight away then I would never have gone to the Ministry.”

Azalea sighed, “There is plenty of blame to go around, and it’s no one person’s fault except for Voldemort. Harry, grieve for Sirius, I know I will be - I miss him more than I can say. If you want to talk to me about it I’ll always be here to listen and offer what help I can.”

Harry felt emotionally exhausted but politely thanked Azalea for her offer. 

Azalea suddenly thought of a way she might be able to help Harry through the loss of Sirius and forgetting that she had promised to spend the summer holidays with Severus, she invited Harry to stay with her at her house in Stevenage. “I’m sure Petunia won’t mind,” Azalea said, “in fact she’ll probably be glad to be rid of you.”

Harry was tempted but he knew he had to refuse. Dumbledore had explained that he had to stay with his aunt’s family in order to maintain the protection that his mother’s sacrifice had given him until he reached 17 – the age of majority in the wizard world. Azalea was family too but it was Petunia who had agreed to take him in and by doing so had sealed the charm Dumbledore had placed on him when he was a baby. “No, I can’t. Dumbledore explained to me that I have to stay with Petunia at least once a year, but thank you for suggesting it.” Harry said but then added wistfully, “I wish Dumbledore had known about you when my parents died and asked you to take me in, I rather think my life would have been happier.”

Azalea was moved by his words, it was the first time he had really acknowledged her as a relative. “We would have done without question and you would have had a happier childhood but somehow I think Voldemort would still be trying to kill you. Your life experiences have made you the boy you are and the man you will become. Sirius had high hopes for you and I’m sure that when the time comes you will rise to the occasion and not let us down.” She could see that Harry was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. “I’ll say goodbye to you then Harry. I don’t think I’ll visit you at Petunia’s house during the holidays, Vernon threatened to get the police if I ever set foot near his house again.”

Harry laughed, “You know he would never do that, it would be too much of an exhibition and what would the neighbours think? All the same, it’s probably best if you don’t antagonise them, they’d only take it out on me.”

Azalea smiled, “I rather think that this will be one of the better holidays you will have at Petunia’s. Alastor Moody’s promised me he’d have a word with them when they come to pick you up from Kings Cross station.”

Harry returned her smile, it was almost worth going back just to see that encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the events in the Order of the Phoenix, the next few chapters follows the Half Blood Prince.


	58. The Need to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Snape and Azalea offer Dumbledore advice after his arm in injured.

The first couple of weeks of the summer holiday marked the way Azalea and Severus hoped their married life would always be. Azalea brought many of her belongings to Spinners End – packing had been easy using the undetectable extension charm and she had been able to bring all she needed in one rucksack. Unpacking was more problematical because she had to find places to put her belongings in Severus’ house. The extension charm was good for increasing the space in the wardrobes and cupboards but not so good for finding places for putting the items of furniture she’d brought with her. 

Severus had mixed feelings about her taking over the house that he had lived alone in for so many years. On the one hand he delighted in her company and her presence but on the other hand he had been used to doing things his way and the adjustment to living with another person, even one he loved as much as he loved Azalea, was more difficult than he had thought it would be. Azalea also wasn’t finding the transition as easy as she had expected. She couldn’t help but think the house was Severus’ and she was still a guest. Unlike Severus, she had more practice in living with other people – like her lodgers and before he had died, with her first fiancé, Edward – but even so sometimes Severus’ fastidiousness irritated her.

Azalea had not been able to leave Winky at Grimmauld Place and neither did she want to. Since Sirius had died, the situation regarding the ownership of 12 Grimmauld Place was unclear. Black family tradition indicated that it should be inherited by the closest male heir with the surname “Black” and there were none of those left. So it was possible it would be inherited by Bellatrix Lestrange as the next closest relative. Azalea would not leave Winky living under such uncertain conditions and she would not live there herself until the ownership was established. With Severus’ agreement Azalea had brought Winky and Benny, her baby, with them to Spinners End and it was true to say that Winky did more than her fair share of housework and cooking. Azalea had been concerned for Kreacher once more being left alone in the empty house, but he told her it was his duty to remain there. Buckbeak the griffin had had his death sentence revoked by the ministry, was renamed Witherwings and given into Hagrid’s care. Hagrid had been delighted to get him back.

Azalea had to go to work at St Mungo’s but commuting by way of apparation meant the distance of a couple of hundred miles between the two places was no impediment. As Severus had promised, he had dinner waiting for her when she came home from work (although Winky had usually prepared it). Severus and Azalea spent the warm evenings and weekends enjoying each other’s company, talking about their day and planning for the future just like any newlyweds. For the time being they neither needed nor wanted anybody else share in their happiness. 

One day towards the end of June, Severus had an urgent message from Dumbledore asking him to come to Hogwarts. Azalea had not yet come home from work and Severus left at once to see why Dumbledore had asked for him. He entered the headmaster’s office and saw that Dumbledore was slumped over the table, beside him lay the sword of Gryffindor and also a ring with a large black stone at its centre, the stone appeared to be engraved but the nature of the decoration was hard to determine because the stone had cracked down the centre. Dumbledore raised his head when he heard Snape come in. “Ah, Severus thank you for coming so quickly, please shut the door and then would you help me to sit in that chair?” Dumbledore indicated a throne-like chair next to his desk.

Snape did as requested. As he helped Dumbledore to the chair he saw that the headmaster was holding his right arm at an awkward angle, the sleeve of his robe slipped down and Snape caught a glimpse of Dumbledore’s arm which was an unnatural colour. He settled Dumbledore in the chair and gently moved the sleeve of his robe to expose his hand. It was blackened and burned, shrivelled up as if it had been mummified. Snape gasped and said in horror, “What have you done?”

Dumbledore said nothing but glanced at the objects on the table. Snape followed his line of sight, recognition of the ring came to him and he put two and two together, Dumbledore had tried to destroy the ring using the sword. “You need to go to St Mungo’s, this is a serious injury, caused by dark magic. It’s beyond my ability to heal you.”

“No!” Dumbledore exclaimed as Snape tried to help him stand. “I’m not going to St Mungo’s, or any other hospital for that matter.”

“Why ever not? This needs proper treatment” Snape said worriedly.

“You know that hospitals have to report any injuries caused by dark magic to the Ministry of Magic. The ministry is riddled with spies for Voldemort. I can’t let him find out what I’m doing.” Dumbledore said, quite calmly in the circumstances.

“And what are you doing?” Snape asked shrewdly.

Dumbledore looked at Snape with his serene blue eyes, “I can’t tell you. The information is on a “need to know basis” as the muggles would say.”

Snape sighed in exasperation and said urgently, “Then you’d better find someone who needs to know and find them quickly, this injury will most likely kill you.” Snape knew someone who could help and he pleaded with Dumbledore, “Let me fetch Azalea to help you, she’ll know what to do, she has experience with injuries caused by dark magic.”

An image flashed into Dumbledore’s mind of Snape in Hogwarts hospital being attended to by Miss Bennett. He recalled the way Snape had been looking at her and Dumbledore said gently, “You seem to have a lot of faith in Miss Bennett.”

In his anxiety for the headmaster, Snape became careless in his response and spoke without thinking, “Of course I do, she’s my…” He quickly corrected himself, “Yes, I do have faith in her ability to heal.”

Dumbledore felt strangely comforted by the fact that Severus now had faith in someone other than him, and it made what he was going to have to ask Snape to do for him somehow easier, knowing that Snape would not have to face the repercussions alone. Before he broached that subject he said firmly, “I can’t let anyone else know the cause of this injury, only you. Please do your best.”

Snape knew the headmaster well enough to know that he would not be persuaded to change his mind. Rather than risk Dumbledore’s life further by arguing with him on the matter, Snape fetched a golden coloured potion for Dumbledore to drink and set to work on containing the dark magic curse which had infected his hand. Snape did the best he could but had to tell Dumbledore that the curse would kill him in less than a year. To his surprise the headmaster seemed remarkably sanguine about his shortened life span. However, the surprises Dumbledore had for Snape were not yet over. 

Dumbledore repeated his request from an earlier conversation that if Hogwarts ever fell into the hands of Voldemort then Snape would do all in his power to protect the students. Having already promised to do so Snape gave his assent as a stiff nod. Dumbledore told Snape of his knowledge that Voldemort planned to have Draco Malfoy kill him (Dumbledore) as a punishment for Lucius Malfoy’s perceived failings in his duty to the Dark Lord. Dumbledore supposed that if Draco was unsuccessful then Voldemort would expect Snape to do the deed. Snape assumed that this was the case. Dumbledore asked Snape to give Draco as much help as he could in order to discover what Draco was planning to do to fulfil his task. Then came the unexpected and shocking request, if the situation arose where the only way to save Draco was for Dumbledore to die, then Dumbledore wanted Severus to kill him and not allow Draco to do it. 

“You ask too much of me, Albus,” Snape responded. “If you are so willing to die, then let me prepare you a potion that will do the job quickly and painlessly at a time of your choosing. I can do it in the muggle fashion, in a capsule hidden in your mouth that you bite upon. That way neither Draco nor I will have to been seen as murderers.”

“Severus, I fear I would not have the courage to deliberately end my own life in the way you suggest,” Dumbledore said sadly.

“Yet you expect me to have the courage to kill you. To do something for you that you can’t do yourself,” Snape said bitterly.

“Yes, I do expect that, you are a braver man than I am. I am asking you to show me some compassion for my weakness and to save me from a long and drawn out death at the hands of Voldemort’s supporters.

By the end of the conversation Snape found himself giving another curt nod to signify his agreement to Dumbledore’s request. 

“Thank you, Severus…” Dumbledore said gratefully.

When Snape arrived back at Spinners End the house was dark except for one light that Azalea had left on in the sitting room for him when she had gone to bed, so he wouldn’t stumble around in the dark and either hurt himself or wake her. There was no need to leave a light on because he could illuminate his wand, no doubt it was something muggles did and she hadn’t yet adjusted to the wizard way. Nevertheless, he liked those little thoughtful touches that living with her brought. She had left out some food for him but he wasn’t hungry, he filled up a glass with wine and sat in the lounge thinking about the promises Dumbledore had obtained from him that night.

As he sat ruminating he heard Benny start to cry, it was shortly followed by the sound of Winky softly crooning to him to settle him back to sleep. It reminded him of the first time he’d stayed with Azalea at her house, a New Year’s promise he’d made to a drunken Azalea that he would always sing the lullabies to any children they may have and how he had allowed himself to dream about those children. Now there may never be children - he might be forced to kill Dumbledore at any time, he couldn’t allow any children to have a murderer for a father, another of life’s chances passing him by. Why did life give with one hand and take away with the other? But look what life had given him – she was upstairs asleep, alone. He drained his glass of wine and went to join her. He snuggled up to her in bed, she didn’t wake but moved into his embrace, warming his body and calming his mind. How would she react if he had to kill Dumbledore? Did she love him enough to understand and would she stand by him whatever he did? He hoped he would never have to find out. The sound of Azalea’s quiet regular breathing lulled him to sleep. When he awoke the next morning he had shaken off the melancholy of the previous night and resolved to take each day as it came.

-oOo--

As bad luck would have it, one of the following days came in a way neither Snape nor Azalea had anticipated. Far from being the quiet time at Spinners End, with no visitors, that they had expected, Voldemort decreed that Peter Pettigrew would be staying with Snape for the remainder of the summer holidays. Who was meant to be watching who wasn’t entirely clear, or perhaps Voldemort had just got fed up with Pettigrew hanging around. Whatever the reason it meant that Azalea and Winky had to remove any sign that they had ever been at Spinners End. To say that Snape resented Pettigrew’s presence in his house was an understatement. He already hated the sight of the man who had betrayed Lily’s whereabouts to Voldemort which led to her death and now he had reason to hate him even more for disrupting the start of his married life with Azalea. 

One evening, a few days after Pettigrew’s arrival, Snape was in the sitting room of his house, which without Azalea’s presence to lighten it up had now regained some of the gloomy atmosphere it had had the first time she had visited. Snape was reading a book, or at least he was staring at the pages but making very little progress. Pettigrew was in his bedroom, the one that had Winky had stayed in when she came. Voldemort had sent Pettigrew to Spinners End to “assist” Snape, so Snape used to him to cook, clean and generally skivvy for him, which Pettigrew did with bad grace and even worse skill. The silence of the house was broken by a sharp knock on the front door. Snape gave a start, he wasn’t expecting anyone and for a few moments he hoped it was Azalea, finding some pretext to visit him. He put his book to one side and stood up to answer the door. As he crossed the small room he could hear the sound of Pettigrew creeping down the stairs. He opened the door a crack, standing in front of it so his body would block the view from the stairs. Through the opening in the door he could make out a woman wearing a long cloak with the hood covering her head. The woman threw back her hood and Snape saw the pale face and long blonde hair of Narcissa. He was flooded with disappointed, of course it wouldn’t have been Azalea; she would never take such a risk and subconsciously he had known that but it hadn’t stopped him from hoping. “Narcissa!” he said masking his disappointment, “what a pleasant surprise!” 

A second woman came up behind Narcissa as he opened the door wider. “Severus,” whispered Narcissa, “may I speak to you? It’s urgent.”

“But of course,” he replied and both women entered, the second one snapping out the word “Snape” and she walked in.

“Bellatrix,” he responded as she walked in. He jumped to the correct conclusion that the reason for Narcissa’s visit was to do with the task that Voldemort had set her son Draco Malfoy, to kill Dumbledore. However, before that subject was reached, Bellatrix demanded an explanation from Snape to convince her that he was loyal to Voldemort. Snape responded smoothly and convincingly to her questions; some of the answers he had already told to Voldemort, others he made up on the spot. By the time had finished Bellatrix, whilst not completely won over, had sufficient doubt to question her own convictions about him.

His satisfaction was short-lived. Narcissa begged him to help Draco and Snape found himself manoeuvred into making an unbreakable vow with Narcissa. If he did not agree then it would undermine all he had just said to Bellatrix and she would continue whispering her doubts about him into the Dark Lord’s ear. If he agreed he would consider it reparation for his role in the exodus of the fairies from Malfoy Manor that had so upset Narcissa. He said quietly, “Certainly Narcissa, I shall make the Unbreakable Vow. Perhaps your sister will consent to be our Bonder.” 

He knelt on the floor with Narcissa and grasped her hand, it was cold and bony, not like Azalea’s warm soft hand that fitted so well into his. Bellatrix cast the spell to bind him and he promised to watch over Draco as he attempted to fulfil the Dark Lord's wishes; to protect Draco from harm and, if it seemed that Draco would fail, then he would carry out the deed that the Dark Lord had ordered Draco to perform. With each of the three vows he responded with the words “I will” and he was forcibly reminded of another set of vows he had so willingly taken a few weeks ago and his heart wept. As he agreed to the final vow, a tongue of flame shot from Bellatrix’s wand and entwined itself with the two that had gone before and bound itself thickly around their clasped hands, like a rope, like a fiery snake. After the women left, Snape retired to his room and wept real tears for what he had done. 

\--oOo--

Azalea was in her house in Stevenage. She missed her husband more than she had thought possible. Those glorious couple of weeks at his house now faded into the background as she faced the reality of the way she lived now. She had to commute to St Mungo’s in the muggle way – on the train, (she saved apparation for emergencies only for fear of alerting the Ministry or Voldemort to her location.) She hadn’t been able to bring Winky with her, because she could never have explained a house elf to her lodger. Azalea had asked Dumbledore if Winky could return to Hogwarts with Benny, until Azalea could find a more suitable place to live. Dumbledore had readily agreed to her request but it was the remainder of their conversation that had given Azalea cause for concern.

When she went into his office, she noticed he was holding his right arm in a peculiar way but she made no comment at first. He reached across the desk and the sleeve of his robe, which had been covering his hand, slipped a little and she saw the unmistakable signs and colours of a dark magic curse, and a very powerful one at that. 

“Professor!” she exclaimed, “What’s happened to your arm?”

“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about,” he said dismissively covering his hand again, “a minor accident, it doesn’t trouble me.”

“Doesn’t trouble you?” she asked astounded, “well it troubles me. You have sustained an injury caused by a dark magic curse. I’m a healer let me see it.”

“Oh there’s no need to bother, it’s all under control,” he said in an offhand manner.

“I said let me see it!” she commanded. Before he thought to stop himself Dumbledore held out his arm for her examination. She swiftly took hold of his hand and pushed his sleeve up his arm so she could get a good look at the injury. Realising what he had done he pulled his arm from her grasp but she had already seen enough.

“Albus,” she said softly, “that is a very serious injury you need to go to St Mungo’s for treatment. I can see that someone has tried to contain it but that won’t hold it for ever. It’s already too late to save your arm – it will need to be amputated.”

“No! I won’t go to hospital. Dark magic injuries have to be reported to the Ministry and the ministry is riddled with Voldemort’s spies. I don’t want word to get back to Voldemort that I am injured.”

Suddenly connections formed in Azalea’s mind, curses often bore a signature of the person who cast them and she’d seen this signature before – in Severus after Voldemort had punished him using the Sectumsempra cutting curse. “It’s Voldemort’s curse,” she said to Dumbledore, “the injury was caused by Voldemort.” Dumbledore made no comment. “I’ll take your silence for affirmation,” Azalea said succinctly. Then she had an idea. “Albus, I can see that you’re worried about Voldemort finding out that his curse has affected you, but what if your arm is amputated and we can say it was an accident,” she said excitedly. She looked around the office and something caught her eye, she rushed over to it and picked it up. “This should do the trick, hold out your arm and I’ll do it now.” In her hand she was holding the sword of Gryffindor. 

Dumbledore was dumbfounded, the sword of Gryffindor only came to those who needed it. Was this a sign that he should do as she suggested? Suddenly he felt very old – every year of his 115 years weighed heavily on his shoulders. Perhaps he should just ignore the message the sword was giving him, let fate take its course and allow the younger wizards to take over the task of defeating Voldemort. “I think not, Miss Bennett. If I were to appear in public with a missing arm Voldemort would see it as a weakness, as indeed it might be. I must accept my lot and let fate take its course.”

Azalea lowered the sword. She had never wielded a sword before but as soon as she had picked it up she knew that if she had attempted to remove Dumbledore’s arm the sword would have guided her hand and the job would have been performed cleanly and accurately. Now that Dumbledore had refused the opportunity, she no longer felt confident in her ability to do the task. If was as if the sword had given Dumbledore the choice and had accepted his decision. She said as much to him, “it would seem that the sword will permit you to follow the path you have chosen.” She carried on speaking the words which came to her from somewhere outside her own mind, as if the sword was guiding her words as it would have guided her hand. “Your fate is now sealed Professor, I hope you have made the right decision. I would urge you to ensure that you pass on, without ambiguity or obfuscation, every piece of information which you have that will aid those who must pick up where you leave off. To fail do so will result in unnecessary death and bloodshed.” When she had finished speaking the sword disappeared from her grasp, its offer made and its advice given.

“Well thank you for those words of advice, Miss Bennett,” he replied coolly, “I assure you I have not forgotten that the fight will continue with or without me.”

Knowing how sparingly he gave out information Azalea noted that his reply with a measure of scepticism. “Albus,” she said in concern, “the injury you have sustained may cause you severe pain and disorientation, especially in its later stages. If you need my help with palliative care please ask - there is no need to suffer unnecessarily. The end could come when you least expect it so don’t leave it too late to pass on what you know.”


	59. Summer Holiday

Azalea was in her own house, watching television with her lodger when the doorbell rang. She answered the door and was delighted to see Severus standing there. She let him in and greeted him with a long kiss. The door to the lounge opened and her lodger walked out to see who had been at the door. Azalea introduced Severus to the lodger and led Severus into the kitchen. Once there she asked him why had come to visit as she took a bottle of wine from the refrigerator.

“Do I need a reason to visit you?” he asked.

“No, of course not. I just assumed that you’re trying not to alert your uninvited guest to any unexplained absences.”

“I’ve explained my absence, I’m getting away from him for a few hours.”

“Won’t that give Pettigrew the opportunity to snoop around your house?” Azalea asked opening a cupboard to find the wine glasses.

“I’ve secured what I can, anyway he’ll have plenty of opportunity to snoop when we’re away on our muggle holiday won’t he?” said Severus. 

Azalea saw the wine glasses on the top shelf of the cupboard, but couldn’t quite reach them. Severus stretched above her and took them down, as he did so she noticed that his hand was glowing. “Severus! What have you done!” she exclaimed looking at his hand in horror.

“I’ve got the glasses down for you” he replied obtusely.

“That’s not what I meant! You’ve got some sort of enchantment on you, it’s all over your hand,” she looked at him in appeal for an answer.

He put the glasses on the work top and looked away in embarrassment, “I made a promise,” he muttered.

At his words she recognised the pattern of the colours. “An unbreakable vow?” she said in horror. “Why? Who with?”

“I can’t say,” he mumbled.

“Secrecy was part of the vow?” Azalea asked in an assumption that Snape did not deny. “Why would you ever agree to an unbreakable vow? You know what the consequences are if you break it.”

“Of course I know what they are!” he said loudly. “It was not willingly done. I had no choice, I was manoeuvred into it.”

“Oh my darling, it’s a rare occasion when Severus Snape gets taken by surprise and finds himself in a situation he can’t control.” Azalea said comfortingly.

He took her into his arms and said softly, “I know, the last time I was taken by surprise was almost two years ago, at the Hogwarts welcoming feast, when you looked at me across the staff dining table. I’ve been out of control ever since.”

Azalea laughed and said jokingly, “We’re married now, you don’t have to say soppy to me things anymore.”

He pulled back and gazed into her honest green eyes, “Yes I do. I’m going to say soppy things to you until the day I die.”

“O.K.” she challenged him, “imagine it’s many years from now, we’re old and grey, the children and grandchildren are gathered around your death bed, what soppy thing are you going to say to me?”

“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “I’m going to say, “Remember shortly after we married, we were in your kitchen and you asked me what soppy thing I was going to say on my deathbed?”” He squeezed her tightly, “Then I shall it and you will find out,” he finished with a smile.

She laughed. “I am willing to wait. It’s one of those things that the longer I have to wait to find out the happier I shall be.” He silenced her laugh with a kiss which lasted until they were interrupted by Azalea’s lodger coming into the kitchen. Azalea grabbed the bottle of wine she’d taken from the refrigerator and the glasses Severus had put on the worktop, taking his hand she led him gleefully up to her bedroom where they would not be interrupted again.

\--oOo--

A few days later as Azalea was preparing to leave work she heard her name being called. She looked around and saw Tonks waving to her with Remus close behind. She walked back up the corridor to meet them.

“Hi ya Leah,” said Tonks. “I’ve just been for my last check up to make sure I’m fighting fit after the battle at the ministry.”

“And are you?” Azalea asked with professional interest.

“Yes, I’m fine” she replied.

“But you’re not to overexert yourself for a few weeks,” Remus reminded her. Tonks smiled at him affectionately but he failed to respond in a similar fashion and her face fell in disappointment. 

Azalea pulled from her pocket the charm bracelet that Sirius had given to her. The healers and medical staff were not permitted to wear jewelry when on duty so she had remove it, otherwise she wore it whenever she could, along with the amulet Severus had given to her. Tonks noticed the bracelet. “That’s pretty,” she remarked.

“Thank you,” Azalea said holding it out for Tonks to get a better look. “Sirius gave it to me. See the charms – a wolf, a dog, a stag, a doe and a bee. There used to be a rat but Sirius threw it away.” 

Tonks heard a note of sadness in Azalea’s voice, “You miss Sirius don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes,” replied Azalea, “more than I can say. I was very fond of him.”

“He was in love with you,” Remus said.

“I know he believed he was. But he was trapped in that house, never really getting to see anyone else, he was starved of company and love. It was easy for him to fancy himself in love with the first person who showed him some kindness and friendship. It wouldn’t have been right for me to take advantage. Although,” she added thinking of the times she had been flirtatious, “sometimes I did things which must have confused him and given him the wrong messages.”

“Like jumping into the Veil after him?” asked Remus, “What message did that send?”

Azalea’s eyes filled with tears, “But he wouldn’t come back with me.”

“He couldn’t come back, Leah,” Remus said gently, “he was already dead.”

“I know, and it was the right decision but I still miss him dreadfully,” she looked at Remus and Tonks tearfully, “Did you know that the day before he died I had finally found a lawyer who was going to help us clear his name. Isn’t it ironic that it’s taken his death for the Ministry of Magic to finally believe in his innocence?” 

“But they do now believe, he would have wanted that,” said Remus.

“Yes, he would,” agreed Azalea.

Moving on to more mundane matters Remus said, “Sirius’ will has been found and it’s been ratified by the Ministry. Sirius left everything he owned to Harry, including 12 Grimmauld Place.”

“I know,” said Azalea, “he told me that was what he was going to do.”

“But did he tell you that it was only the things he owned personally that he was leaving to Harry? He also had significant wealth tied up in the Black family trust funds and companies of which he was the sole surviving beneficiary. He’s left all that to you – on the grounds that your business experience will enable you to understand and untangle them all. It was a burden he didn’t want to leave to Harry.”

Azalea burst into tears properly this time, crying for the generosity of the man she couldn’t quite love enough in the way he had wanted her to. 

\--oOo--

Shortly before Severus and Azalea went on their muggle holiday, Azalea’s NEWT results arrived. She had scraped through with grades sufficient to continue her training at St Mungo’s. She celebrated with Severus with a meal in a good quality muggle restaurant. The restaurant was busy but the sound was damped by the enclosed cubicles in which the tables were set and the soft furniture and drapes used as interior decoration. They ordered their meals and whilst they waited for the first course to arrive Severus told her his news – he’d finally been given the post of teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts and he hadn’t even been made to apply for it! Dumbledore had persuaded a retired teacher – Horace Slughorn – to take over the Potion classes.

Azalea had never seen Severus so animated and enthusiastic about teaching as he outlined his plans about the best way to get the students up to speed with a knowledge of the subject matter to better prepare them for the difficult days which were sure to come, especially since the dementors had left Azkaban and were breeding. Azalea kept her concerns about the short lived tenure of the other Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers thinking that Severus would probably teach the students more in a year than most teachers would do in two years and he would need to. 

“I’ve got so much preparatory work to do,” he told her excitedly, “that’s the rest of my holiday sorted now and I can get Wormtail finally doing something useful in helping me.”

“That’s good,” said Azalea noncommittally. “You are still coming on holiday with me aren’t you?”

“Of course I am,” he assured her looking at her worried expression. “It wouldn’t be much of a honeymoon if I didn’t go would it?” Her face relaxed into a smile and he felt the familiar rush of tenderness towards her that he always did when she smiled for him.

They were part way through the main course by now and Azalea said, “I haven’t told you my other news. Sirius has left me a significant amount of money. It’s tied up in trusts and businesses but once I’ve sorted it all out we shall be very well off.”

Severus slowly lowered his fork and his face turned dark, “I want nothing from that man.”

“Fine!” snapped Azalea, a flash of red in her eyes, “In that case I will be a very wealthy woman.”

They ate for a several long moments in silence occasionally glaring at each other. Severus spoke first, “Let’s not argue over this. You know I never liked him and I want nothing from him.”

“You wouldn’t be getting it from Sirius, you’d be getting it from me,” Azalea explained. “Sirius didn’t know that you and I were in a relationship, or that we were married. If he had lived longer he may have changed his will once he found out or got married himself and changed it then, we will never know. What do you think I should do with the money then? We have the opportunity to never face poverty. You can leave Hogwarts, and do something you would enjoy more.”

Severus sighed, “Keep the money, do with it what you wish. As for leaving Hogwarts, you know I can’t do that yet.”

“Why?” she asked, “because you’ve finally been offered the teaching job you wanted all along?”

“No, that’s not the reason. If it was just the job I’d leave it in instant. It’s the students, I promised Dumbledore I’d protect them if Voldemort ever got control of Hogwarts.”

Azalea was about to ask why Dumbledore wouldn’t protect them himself when she remembered his injury. Dumbledore would only have asked Severus for that promise when he knew his injury was fatal. Likewise Severus would only have made the promise once he understood why Dumbledore was asking him for it. “It was you,” she said quietly, “You contained that dark curse in Dumbledore’s arm.”

Severus stared at her, “How do you know about that?” he asked.

“I saw it when I asked him if Winky could stay at Hogwarts. I offered to amputate his arm before the curse progressed any further– it was the only way the curse could be removed – but he refused. I think he must be tired of life.”

Severus felt a cold chill run up his spine, Dumbledore’s life could have been saved, albeit at the cost of an arm. Dumbledore might not have known that when he’d extracted Snape’s second promise but he certainly knew afterwards whilst it was still possible to save his life and relieve Snape of his promise. Didn’t the muggles have an expression about giving your right arm in exchange for something you really valued? Was Snape’s soul worth so little to Dumbledore that he would sacrifice it ahead of his arm? Severus became aware of Azalea observing him closely but she hadn’t tried to read his thoughts. He pulled himself together, the matter of Sirius’ bequest was no longer an irritation to him. He wasn’t tired of life and he wanted to make as much of it as he could, with the woman he loved, before he was forced into committing murder. He smiled at Azalea and reached across the table to hold her hand, “Tell me about the arrangements for our honeymoon,” he said.

\--oOo--

Azalea had organized a holiday to southern Spain. Severus had never flown in an aeroplane before - it was certainly more comfortable than sitting on a broom stick but everything took so long – getting to the airport, queuing to book in and hand over the luggage, getting through passport control, waiting in the departure area, and queuing again to get on the plane. Once at the other end there was more waiting – passport control, luggage collection and finding the transfer bus to take them to their hotel. They had packed their belongings into luggage to go into the hold of the plane. As part of the muggle experience Azalea had banned him from using an extension charm and cramming all they needed into one carry-on bag. He let Azalea take the lead in guiding him through the process otherwise he would have been at a complete loss as to what to do and where to go. Now he could understand why Azalea loved the speed of apparition, having long got over her fear of splinching.

They arrived at the accommodation, which was a small bedsit apartment in a side street in Nerja. The room was furnished and supplied with the minimum that the holiday company could get away with providing for guests but it would do for the two weeks they were there. The holiday was enjoyable and over far too quickly. They explored the town, walking out on the Balcon de Europa; a tree lined promenade which jutted out into the sea giving stunning views over the rocky shore, at night it was illuminated by the light from spotlights washing over the rocks in waves of constantly changing colour. Azalea hired a car for a few days and they went further afield visiting one of the most splendid sights in Europe - the magnificent Alhambra Palace in Grenada - part fortress, part palace and part water gardens. The peach coloured walls of the fortress snaked around the hill above the city and behind it was a network of lavishly decorated palaces and irrigated gardens. Azalea enthusiastically called Severus’ attention to the marvelous detail of decoration and the splendour of the surroundings but he didn’t seem to appreciate it as much as she did and she jokingly accused him of having no soul.

He was taken aback by her comment, “What do you mean I have no soul?” he asked sharply.

She was surprised that he seemed offended, “I don’t mean it literally,” she said, “it’s an expression for people who come across as cold and indifferent, with no appreciation of beauty.”

“Oh, one of your muggle sayings,” he replied now feeling a little embarrassed for his outburst. “Who says I have no appreciation of beauty? I only have to look at you to see real beauty.” Now it was Azalea’s turn to feel embarrassed and she blushed at his words. He piled on the compliments, “Blushing only makes you look more beautiful, everything here fades into ordinariness compared to you.”

“Severus, stop you’re making me embarrassed,” she said playfully hitting him on the arm.

“I’m only saying the truth,” he replied. He stopped walking and pulled her into a kiss thus forcing the other people on the path to walk around them. As they pulled apart he whispered softly “and it’s also the truth that I love you, you make me so happy and calm my soul. My world changed the day you came into my life.”

She lifted her hand to push back a lock of his hair that had fallen over his face and whispered back, “And I love you. You are my world now, you are all I’ll ever need.” Not being one to leave a tender moment alone, Azalea added flippantly in her normal voice, “apart from food and drink of course.”

He laughed and continued along the same lines, “What about clothing?”

“Oh yes and somewhere to live,” she added.

“Money? A job?” 

“Those too and friends.”

They held hands and continued walking down the path lightheartedly making suggestions for all the other things they would need besides each other and Snape pushed to the back of his mind the question of his soul.

Another day they went to Ronda – a charming historic town with narrow cobbled streets but its main claim to fame was its dramatic escarpments and breathtaking views over the deep El Tajo gorge. It was also known as the birthplace of modern bullfighting which was less to Azalea’s taste but intrigued Severus as an example of muggle entertainment. The bull ring had few bull fights these days so the tourists could walk around the arena and imagine the spectacle of a bull pawing the ground and charging towards the toreador who was taunting it with his red cape whilst the roar of the crowds echoed across the bull ring. In Snape’s imagination he became the bull who had killed the brave and noble toreador and the crowd were baying for his blood, he had nowhere to flee except back to the stable and await his fate. When Azalea said she had seen enough at the bullring he departed at once leaving the imaginary echoes behind.

Many of the days of their holiday were unplanned and they took them as they came – getting up late, eating lunch in one of the many cafes in town and lazing on the beach. Azalea was concerned that Severus’ pale skin would burn easily in the hot sun and she would liberally apply sunscreen to his body. He loved the feel of her hands gliding smoothly across his bare skin, spreading the sunscreen in circular motions, her touch causing his body to react in a way that he could not relieve in a public place, on more than one occasion he had to tell her to stop and he’d apply the sunscreen himself, before applying the sunscreen to her and causing her body to react in a similar way. Their evenings were spent in quiet restaurants or noisy bars. Sometimes they would talk to other holiday makers and sometimes they needed only themselves. Once back in the privacy of the apartment they would make love for hours before falling asleep wrapped around each other. 

To Severus, holidays had always been about time away from the students, an opportunity to forget Hogwarts and spend the time on his own, in the quiet of his own house with no demands on his time and no one to answer to. This holiday had been entirely different he had never felt so free, so relaxed, the thought of returning to his house contaminated as it was by the presence of Wormtail filled him with despair. Azalea, ever optimistic, told him it wouldn’t last forever and before long he’d be back at Hogwarts finally teaching the subject he had longed to teach all these years. He agreed with her but teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts no longer held the attraction for him that it once did. All he wanted now was to get away from Hogwarts, Voldemort and even Dumbledore and start afresh with Azalea. This holiday had given him a glimpse of how things could be and would be when the war had ended.

All too soon the holiday ended, the honeymoon was over. They packed their bags, spent several hours journeying back the same way they had arrived. Azalea collected her car from the airport and drove them to Stevenage where he spent one last night with Azalea before he had to return to Spinners End and slip back into his expected persona – a man with no soul.


	60. Investments

Azalea stood in front of her wardrobe deciding what would be the best outfit to wear today. She had an appointment at Gringotts – the Wizard’s Bank - to discuss the trust funds she had inherited from Sirius and she thought it might help if she dressed herself as an ignorant muggle rather than in wizard robes. She selected a pair of black trousers which she hadn’t worn for a while and put them on, she pulled up the zip but the two sides would not close up, she removed the trousers - that particular pair always had been a bit snug. She chose another pair, these also felt tight, but she managed to do up the zip, it was only for a couple of hours - she could change into a more comfortable pair when she got home. She opened a drawer to get a top to go with the trousers. She selected one, held it up against her and decided it didn’t really go with the trousers so she rummaged through the drawer to find a more suitable top. She spotted one at the bottom of the pile and pulled it out, as she did so a packet of sanitary towels flew out with it and landed on the floor. She bent down to pick it up but as she did she felt a cold chill run through her body. When was the last time she had needed to use sanitary towels? Her periods had never been particularly regular but thinking about it now, they had never been this late. She sat down on the bed and tried to remember the date of her last period. She knew she’d had one shortly after the wedding because she had been relieved it hadn’t spoiled the day for her. But since then she couldn’t recall having one, not the first couple of weeks she’d spent at Severus’ house, or when they were on holiday. 

She felt a sense of panic start to well up inside her. She took deep breaths; there were many reasons why she had missed a period, other than the obvious one. Grief could do it and stress – she had been grief stricken when Sirius had died and the stress of keeping her secrets about Severus, it could be due to that. She looked at her watch; she needed to get a move on if she was to be at Gringotts in time for her appointment, there was no point worrying now. After her appointment she would go to a chemist and buy what she needed to and get an answer one way or the other.

She finished dressing and caught the train into central London. At Kings Cross station she changed to the Tube and rode it a few stops before getting out and walking the last part to the Leaky Cauldron Pub. To her the building was obvious but everyone else just in the street walked past it as if it didn’t exist. She opened the door and entered, it was gloomy inside which disguised the shabby interior, she greeted the bartender but didn’t stay for a drink; instead she walked through the building to a yard at the rear. The bartender was used to potential patrons not staying – it was the price he had to pay for being the way through from the muggle world to the wizard world. He had noticed that people were more inclined to buy a drink on their way back. Once in the yard Azalea examined the rear wall for the brick which opened the way to Diagon Alley. The enchanted brick shone like a beacon to her eyes, she pressed it and the wall opened into an archway leading to Diagon Alley. She walked under the arch and it closed behind her as she set off down the road. Azalea had never been inside Gringotts but she knew where it was located and that it was the snowy white building towering over the smaller shops in the street. She approached the entrance which was identified by a pair of burnished bronze doors and behind those a second pair of silver doors on which was written a dire warning for anyone who might be of a mind to try to steal from the bank. The doors were each flanked by a pair of goblins in a scarlet and gold uniform. Azalea had seen goblins before so was used to the look of them, shorter than she was but taller than a house elf, with swarthy skin and very long fingers and feet. 

Once through the silver doors she found herself in a vast marble hall with a reception desk at the far end. The long walk to it, past hundreds of goblins sitting at desks and working diligently, was clearly intended to intimidate and impress first time visitors. Dozens of doors led off the hall with more goblins showing people in and out of these. Azalea arrived at the desk and announced her name and the reason for her visit; she had appointment with a financial advisor. She was shown through one of the many doors behind which was an interview room, a goblin was already there and he introduced himself as Rodmar, and he had a particular expertise in wizard personal finance.

Azalea showed him the papers she had found relating to the Black family finances and a copy of Sirius’s will bequeathing them all to her. Rodmar had to agree that the transfer to her was valid. They went through the items one by one and Azalea thought that Rodmar was being fair in his dealings with her and giving sound and practical advice. They came to the final document and when she showed it to him she observed him carefully. She wasn’t familiar with goblin body language so she employed a light touch with her occlumency skills. She read surprise, curiosity and a little fear as Rodmar read the document. 

“I thought that was interesting. I overlooked it several times, it was almost as if it didn’t want to be found,” she said casually. In fact, she may never have noticed it if it hadn’t been for her ability to see the colour glow of enchanted objects. “It would seem I have inherited a share in Gringott’s bank. I was always under the impression that Gringotts was wholly owned by goblins. That document says that three wizard families have a share in the bank – those families being the Blacks with 3%, the Malfoys and the Gaunts with 1% each”

“This is ancient,” said Rodmar turning the document over in his hands examining writing on the parchment.

“I know but as far as I can see it is still legal,” said Azalea who had undertaken some additional research when she found this particular document. “It dates back to the Goblin Wars. Gringotts Bank needed to fund the war and borrowed from anyone who would lend them money. I suppose business is business even in war time and the Blacks, Malfoys and the Gaunts of the day could see an opportunity.” 

“I need to take this to my superior,” said Rodmar standing up from his chair.

“By all means,” said Azalea, “but I’d prefer it if you took this copy I made and left the original with me.” She held out a photocopy of the document. Rodmar exchanged the original for the copy and left the room. He returned several minutes later and asked her to follow him. She gathered up the paperwork she had brought with her and went with him. He led her through one of the other doors off the main hall and it opened out into a stone passageway with tracks like railway tracks on the floor. Rodmar whistled and a carriage came sedately along the track, it resembled one of the state horse drawn carriages that the muggle Queen used on formal occasions, covered in gilt paint and ornate carvings. Inside were two well upholstered bench seats facing each other. Azalea sat one side and Rodmar the other, he whistled again and the carriage set off smoothly. It soon gained speed but it was like being a passenger in a luxury car and Azalea was barely aware of the speed they were going. It glided to a halt next to a plain timber door. Rodmar rapped on the door in a series of complicated beats, the door swung open, they went through it into a corridor at the end of which was a staircase. At the top of the staircase was another door leading to a reception area with a desk at which a goblin sat. He asked them to wait and went through a door behind him. He came out almost immediately and announced, “Mr Gringott will see you now.”

Azalea entered a large office, with timber panelling on the wall, they were deep underground and the room had no windows, instead it was lit by a number of lamps set around the walls and hanging from the ceiling, each lamp was a masterpiece of metal craft, intricate designs and delicate fronds of different material giving an ethereal look to an otherwise standard office. Sitting at the far end behind a large mahogany desk was a goblin of very advanced years. Azalea and Rodmar approached the desk and he indicated that they should sit down on the chairs on the opposite side of the desk to where he sat. 

Azalea spoke first, “Mr Gringott? As in the name of this bank?”

“Yes, Miss Bennett,” he replied, “It has been controlled by the Gringott family for generations. I am the current Managing Director. Now I wish to get straight to business. Rodmar tells me that you have a document relating to the affairs of this bank. Show it to me please.”

Azalea handed him the original document which he studied closely, sighed and said, “It is indeed genuine. I had hoped not to see this during my life time.”

“Why?” asked Azalea. 

“You see Miss Bennett” he explained, “the control of this bank is finely balanced between two sides of the Gringott family. The side I represent has a 48% share in the bank and my cousins on other side of the family have a 47% share. The two sides have different views on certain aspects of life and business. Most of the time we rub along in broad agreement to further the interest of the bank. However, the last time the wizards went to war with wizards, many of my cousins supported the cause of Voldemort and now that he is back, once again there is disagreement with the stance the bank should take. As long as my side of the family sticks together our 1% majority will ensure that the bank remains impartial when the wizards fight between themselves.”

Azalea saw the problem straight away, “You believe that if the existence of this document becomes public knowledge, the balance of power within Gringotts will change. You know, of course, that Voldemort is the last known remaining member of the Gaunt family and the Malfoys would vote as he directed them. If I were to stand on your side, it’s business as usual, if I abstain or vote with your cousins then matters would be entirely different.”

“Yes, so you see my problem – you are an unknown to me. Had the Blacks still be in control it is likely they would vote as Voldemort would,” said Mr Gringott peering at Azalea. 

“But Voldemort has no interest in business matters,” observed Azalea. “To him it is a tedious distraction below his notice.”

Rodmar interjected saying, “That may be the case now but if he discovers he could influence the outcome of the war through his control of the bank he wouldn’t hesitate to use it.”

Azalea knew that to be a correct conclusion. “Perhaps we should just forget the existence of the document,” she suggested.

“I don’t think that’s possible now” said Mr Gringott. “The contract document was enchanted the day it was made so that the document would be overlooked by the families. However, if a beneficiary ever noticed it then the full content would once again be visible to the families.”

“So your ancestors tried to cheat the families out of the agreement,” said Azalea angrily. 

“It was only because they tried to cheat us first!” Mr Gringott retorted. “At the time this contract was entered into, during the goblin wars, Gringotts was borrowing heavily from many wizards and we gave them shares in Gringotts as security for the loans, we also paid them dividends but back payments were limited to a maximum of ten years. After the war, we worked hard to buy the shares back; at a great profit to the wizards I might add. We were successful for all the contracts except this one,” he held up the document Azalea had shown him. “This was the last contract we signed. We had agreed that that Gringotts would be able to buy back the shares within a set period of time and at a prescribed rate of interest. But the day the deal was to be signed the three families changed the terms of the agreement to give the families the right to refuse the sell back the shares. At the time we were forced to agree, we were desperate for the money, the whole outcome of the Goblin war hinged on us getting all the money the wizards had agreed to lend us. Wizards are an arrogant species and underestimate the resourcefulness of the goblins. We were able to enchant the contract so that if the wizards refused our offer to buy back the shares, under the terms originally agreed, the agreement would slip from living memory and be overlooked by future generations. We made the offer to buy back the shares as per the original agreement. The families refused the offer expecting to force us to pay a higher price if they did so. The amount they demanded would have crippled the bank. The enchantment took effect and it has taken until now for the agreement to be rediscovered. ” 

“But why was there a way the enchantment could be broken?” asked Azalea having some sympathy for the goblins being faced with an ultimatum. 

“A business contract is always binding in Wizard Law and cannot be unilaterally broken or put aside,” Mr Gringott said. “We could only hide it, not destroy it or change the terms.”

“Could I sell my shares to you?” asked Azalea.

“The agreement was made with all three families, you can only do that with the agreement of the other families,” Mr Gringott explained.

“And by doing so I will alert them to the existence of the contract,” Azalea mused aloud. “I think for now I will say nothing about this contract, or try to enforce my rights under it.” She could see both the goblins looking at her with suspicion so she said, “You have my word I won’t do anything without letting you know.” For now they had no choice but to trust her. She finished the meeting, left Gringotts and returned home, not forgetting to make the purchase at the chemist.

\--oOo--

Azalea stood in the bathroom of her house staring at the blue line on the stick. It had to be wrong, but staring at it didn’t make it go away. These testing kits were very reliable nowadays, there was no doubt – she was pregnant. She slid down the wall and sat on the floor holding her head in her hands. How the hell had this happened? No that wasn’t the question, she knew perfectly well how it had happened but when had it happened? Severus and she had always taken precautions and Azalea even used a “morning after” contraception spell just to be doubly sure. How she wished the absence of her period was just due to her grief following Sirius’ death and she buried her head deeper into her hands. Suddenly, she sat up straight – it had been that day! The day of the battle at the ministry, the day Sirius had died. She’d rushed home to Severus demanding that he make love to her to make her forget, but she’d forgotten more than she intended to that night. When she’d woken the next morning the memory of the battle and the loss of her friend had rushed back pushing mundane things like contraceptive spells out of her mind. 

What was going to say to Severus – how could she tell him? They’d talked about having children in general terms with the assumption it would be at some unspecified time in the future, but not (she quickly counted up on her fingers) next March. She had no idea how he would react. 

^^Leah.^^ She felt the gentle touch of Severus in her mind calling to her. It had been over a week since she’d discovered she was pregnant and she hadn’t yet told him. They hadn’t seen much of one another since they returned from their holiday. With Pettigrew still at Spinner’s End Severus was wary of being away too much, in case word got back to Voldemort. It probably would anyway; Pettigrew was no doubt spying on him so Snape had to ensure he could account for every absence. 

^^Yes?^^ she replied. She was on the train returning home, she’d been on the early shift that day and was intending to relax in the garden and continue studying as part of her Healer’s training.

^^Wormtail’s been called away by Voldemort. I’ve got a couple of hours before he’s back. I want to spend it with you, I miss you.^^

Azalea immediately changed her plans for the afternoon, she missed Severus too and she needed to tell him but she wanted to do it on neutral grounds and without the chance of being interrupted by her lodger. ^^I’m still on the train, I’ll meet you in the pub we went to last time. I’ll be there in a few minutes.^^

Severus was waiting outside the pub when she arrived. They embraced and Azalea suggested that they sat in the pub garden because it was a warm, sunny day. She chose a bench facing out over a small flower bed and she could hear the soft humming of the bees as they went from flower to flower. Severus was now familiar with muggle pubs and muggle money and offered to get the drinks. “Thanks,” said Azalea, “I’ll have a tomato juice.”

“Tomato juice?” he asked in confirmation, that wasn’t her usual choice of drink.

“Yes please, with Worcestershire sauce,” she said. 

He shrugged and went to the bar. He returned with their drinks, Azalea’s looked like dirty blood but she took a gulp and set the glass on the table. She asked him how he was getting on with the preparations for next term and he launched into a detailed description of the subjects he would cover, what level he should adopt for each class and his ideas for the practical sessions. After a while he noticed she seemed distracted and wasn’t really paying attention to his words. Usually she was full of helpful suggestions and witty comments but she’d barely said a word. “Leah, is something wrong?” he asked.

She didn’t reply at once as if it took a few seconds for his question to register in her brain. “Nothing, I’m fine,” she responded in a way that he felt meant she wasn’t fine at all.

He was sitting next to her on the bench and turned to face her, she looked worried and avoided eye contact, which was most unlike her. “Leah, I know you well enough by now to see when there is something troubling you. If you can’t tell me, your husband, who can you tell?”

She glanced over at him, picked up her glass and had another mouthful, she put the glass back on the table and nervously ran her finger around the rim of the glass. Without looking at him she spoke towards the glass, “I’m pregnant.”

Pregnant? He stared at her in shock. Pregnant? She wouldn’t look at him and resolutely stared at the flower garden. He didn’t need to be an occlumens to see the waves of anxiety that were radiating from her body. That couldn’t be good for the baby, his baby, their baby. He moved closer to her on the bench, reached out to her and slowly turned her around to face him. “This is a bit sooner than I’d expected but we were always intending to have children, all that’s changed is the timing.” He gathered her into his arms and felt her body heave as she sobbed against his shoulder. “Why are you so upset?” he asked. A sudden horrifying idea struck him, “You do want the baby don’t you?”

She pulled away and he saw her tear stained face as she answered in outrage, “Of course I do!” She said more quietly, “I thought you’d be angry and disappointed.”

“Why would I be angry?” he asked in confusion. “I’ll admit I’m surprised, shocked, taken aback but I’m not angry or disappointed. Why did you think I would be?”

“Because this wasn’t meant to happen, I tried to avoid it and I failed,” she said miserably.

“Leah,” he said pulling her back into his arms, “You are the most gifted witch I have ever come across but it is beyond even your ability to make a baby on your own.” He felt her relax a little and she sniffed back her tears. “We are both responsible for the creation of this baby, if you failed then so did I.”

Azalea sobbed, “How did I ever find somebody as wonderful and caring as you?”

“You bring out the best in me, if I’m wonderful it’s only because you are too,” he said softly into her hair as she leant against him. “Let’s hope that we have made a wonderful baby.”


	61. New Beginnings

Snape was in the Great Hall, the Sorting had finished for the new intake of first years and the food had just arrived. He saw a patronus enter the hall, it appeared ghost like and indistinct. It hovered in place as if searching for someone, he stood up from his seat at the staff table and intercepted it. As he drew closer he could make out that it was the shape of a wolf. He didn’t know anyone with a wolf-shaped patronus. “Speak!” he ordered it.

It stopped moving and he heard Tonk’s voice coming from it. “Harry Potter is with me at the gate, could somebody let him in please.” Once it had delivered its message it dissolved into nothing. Snape left the room immediately and made his way to the main gate. As he approached he could see, by the light of the lantern he was carrying, two people at the gate. One was clearly Potter wearing muggle clothes and his face was smeared with blood, the other was a woman with dull mousy brown hair, (not shining like Azalea’s did), with a shock he recognised her as Tonks. What had happened to her? Where was the happy and cheerful young woman from a few weeks ago in the Order of the Phoenix? He remembered her in his potions class, whenever something had been knocked over or spilt during his lesson, nine times out of ten it was her. Out of habit he had reprimanded her and she acted suitably, although not very sincerely, contrite. Tonks’ patronus hadn’t been wolf shaped the last time he saw it. He recalled the day his patronus had changed – it was the day Lily had died. Sometimes a trauma could cause a patronus to change. It was odd that happiness had not changed his patronus back to its original form or to be something to complement his new love, although her patronus was quite unique. He believed his love for Azalea was stronger than the despair caused by Lily’s death. He looked at Tonks again he wondered what had upset her so much to cause her patronus to change to a wolf. Then the reason struck him, Lupin, of course! Azalea had mentioned to him that Tonks and Lupin were going out. Snape hadn’t noticed the attraction between them but women seemed more attuned to that sort of thing than men and he had believed her. If Tonks’ current demeanour was anything to go by it would seem that the course of true love was not running smoothly. If Snape had been inclined to give advice to Lupin (which he wasn’t) he would have told him that if Tonks loved him and he loved her they should not let their love slip away but should grab the opportunity for happiness with both hands, it was better to regret the things you had done that the things you hadn’t done.

He reached the gate; security had been increased significantly over the summer and only staff could undo the gate. Four aurors, including Tonks, had been stationed in Hogsmeade to give the school extra protection. Snape tapped the padlock and it snapped open, the chain it was secured to snaked aside and the gate creaked open. Potter stepped inside and the gate shut itself with a clang; Tonks remaining on the other side. Snape tapped the chain with his wand and it slithered back into place. He regarded Tonks through the bars of the gate and said, “I was interested to see your new Patronus but I think you were better off with the old one. The new one looks weak. You need to...” As he spoke the light from the lantern illuminated her face and he saw a look of shock and anger before she turned away into the darkness, without listening to the rest of his comment. He sighed, he hadn’t worded that very well, he was going to suggest that she should resolve whatever it was that was making her new patronus weak. He started the walk back to the Castle in silence for a moment thinking that Azalea was so much better with dealing with things like that, perhaps he should have said nothing. He became aware of Potter walking alongside him glaring at him in dislike and Snape could feel the hatred coming from the boy. Using his occlumency skills he discovered that Potter blamed him for Black’s death because he had accused Black of being a coward. Snape had disliked Black intensely but wouldn’t have wished him dead, especially after seeing how upset Azalea had been. Snape supposed it made Potter forget his own role in Black’s death if he could put the blame elsewhere.

“Fifty points from Gryffindor for lateness, I think,” said Snape in petty revenge, which he knew Azalea wouldn’t have approved of. “And, let me see, another twenty for your Muggle attire. You know, I don’t believe any House has ever been in negative figures this early in the term. We haven’t even started pudding. You might have set a record, Potter.”

They arrived at the Great Hall and Snape again could sense Potter’s thoughts; he wanted to slip in unnoticed and was considering using his invisibility cloak. So, thought Snape, Potter has his invisibility cloak with him. Snape had used it himself when he had followed Potter into the shrieking shack when Black was on the run from Azkaban. He would have confiscated it at the time except he had been knocked unconscious. Since then Dumbledore had forbidden him to take it from Potter. He wasn’t going to let Potter use it now though. “No cloak,” said Snape, “You can walk in so that everyone sees you, which is what you wanted, I’m sure.”

Potter hurried off to his place at the Gryfindor table and Snape made his way back to the top table. He saw that Sybil Trelawney sitting next to Hagrid, it was unusual for her to attend the start of term feast, the fear must be getting to her but perhaps that was not surprising considering how she had been treated by Umbridge last year. She had adorned herself with many beads and amulets, which clinked as she served her food. One of then caught his eye, it was a dark blue ampoule hanging from a cord. The puddings arrived and were quickly eaten by the staff and students alike. Dumbledore got to his feet to give his introductory speech. He dismissed the injury to his hand as “nothing to worry about” and introduced the new potions master, Professor Slughorn, the word “potions” echoed around the hall. Dumbledore had to raise his voice to speak over the whispering and announced that Professor Snape was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Snape heard Potter’s voice shout “No!” but he took no notice and waved at the Slytherin table in acknowledgment of their cheers. He was aware of other whispers that Snape had finally achieved his heart’s desire in getting the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts post which Dumbledore had denied him for so long. The whisperers were wrong, his heart’s desire was something very different and he achieved that just after the NEWTs had finished. His new teaching post was just another job but one of utmost importance in these troubled times.

When the feast was over and the new first years settled into their dormitories, Snape went to his chambers. He still retained the rooms he had always used because Slughorn preferred the accommodation provided for the Defence Against the Dark Art teacher over those for the potion’s teacher. Snape had agreed, it made no difference to him and the only place which he now thought of as home was wherever Azalea was. Once the school year had begun and he had needed to live at Hogwarts, Wormtail had been ordered back to stay with Voldemort at Malfoy Manor. Clearly the Dark Lord did not trust Wormtail to be on his own and Snape was glad to get him out of his house, it gave him a quiet place where he and Azalea could meet away from the public gaze. 

Despite his reassuring words to Azalea, now that he was really about to become a father, Snape was terrified. His anxiety was more than just the normal worries a first time father would have – Would his wife be all right? Would the baby be healthy? Would he love it? Would he drop it the first time he held it? He was worried for his family’s safety and for their reputation. A few weeks’ ago, Igor Karkaroff’s body had been found in a shack, with the dark mark set over it. Karkaroff had been on the run for a year, it was remarkable he had evaded the Death Eaters for that long, but he must have lived in fear and been constantly on the move. Snape was relieved he had never given in the temptation to run from the Dark Lord, but if Voldemort ever found out about Snape’s duplicity it would be more than Snape’s life that would be ended. Voldemort’s revenge would extend to anybody that Snape was attached to. Snape could not risk publicly acknowledging that he was married to Azalea and the baby was his. To the wizard world Azalea would be viewed as an unmarried mother and condemned by the small minded. If Snape had to fulfil his promise to Dumbledore and end his life, he knew he would be cast out from Hogwarts, trusted by no one there. He would be a murderer on the run, a Death Eater totally converted to Voldemort’s cause. He didn’t want Azalea or their child to be judged guilty by association. All he could was continue to tread the path he had chosen and act as if Azalea meant no more to him than a person he would pass every day in the street. But here in the quiet of his rooms and the privacy of his mind he could talk to her as his wife, his lover, his friend and his reason for living. He called to her ^^Leah?^^. She answered at once and suddenly the world wasn’t such a frightening place.

The next day was the first time Snape would be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. Shortly after he woke up he felt Azalea calling to him to wish him luck on his first day with the new subject and he started the day in good spirits. Slughorn may have objected to having the Potions master’s living quarters but he had to teach the subject in the potion’s classroom which meant that Snape had the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom on the first floor. Unlike the potions classroom this one had windows overlooking the grounds and the light flooded in. After the oppressive and claustrophobic nature of the potions classroom he revelled in the brightness. The first lesson of the day was with the first years, and he left the room light and airy as he gave them an introduction to the dark arts which included knowing about dangerous magical animals, as well as curses and jinxes. He stayed away from the unforgivable curses, there was plenty of time for these young ones to learn about those when they got older. 

The next lesson was with the sixth formers including Potter, Granger and Weasley. Snape waved his wand and the appearance of the classroom altered. He had drawn the curtains over the windows blocking out the natural light of the sun and instead the room was lit by candlelight. He had put gruesome pictures on the walls, showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts. These students shouldn’t be mollycoddled, it was likely that many of them would be called to fight and they needed to learn the subject and learn it fast. In fact, a few of them already had first-hand experience gained during the battle at the ministry. The main purpose for which Dumbledore had given Snape the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was for the proper education of the older students in the subject. 

He let the students into the classroom and called them to order. “I wish to speak to you and I want your fullest attention,” he made eye contact with Potter, what he was about to say was addressed to him more than the others, Potter was the one who would have to face Voldemort in the end. “The Dark Arts,” said Snape quietly as he walked around the room, “are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible.” He had discussed this introduction with Azlaea and it was she who had made the analogy with the mythical hydra. He had modified her suggestion not wanting to have to explain why he suddenly knew about muggle mythology. “Your defences,” said Snape, a little louder, “must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse” — he waved a hand toward a picture of a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony — “feel the Dementor’s Kiss” — a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall — “or provoke the aggression of the Inferius” — a bloody mass upon the ground.

Now that he had their attention he instructed them to split into pairs and practice nonverbal spells; one student throwing a jinx and the other repelling it, all without speaking. The advantage of a nonverbal spell was that it gave an element of surprise because your opponent wouldn’t know from you shouting the incantation which jinx you were about to perform. However, thought Snape, those rare people who can also see the colour of the spell have a further advantage. He walked around the classroom watching then work, many of them were much better at it than he had expected. He soon realised that the better students were the ones who had been in Dumbledore’s Army last year. Unfortunately, Weasley who was partnered with Potter, appeared unable to cast a nonverbal spell and so Potter couldn’t practice the counterspell. “Pathetic, Weasley,” said Snape, “here let me show you.” Snape turned his wand quickly towards Potter and to Snape’s surprise, Potter reacted instinctively shouting the incantation and raising a shield spell so strong that Snape was knocked off balance and hit a desk. Snape was surprised that Potter had been able to react so quickly, maybe the boy would stand more of a chance against Voldemort than he thought. However, they were supposed to be practising nonverbal spells.

“Do you remember me telling you we are practising nonverbal spells, Potter?”

“Yes,” said Potter.

“Yes, sir.” Snape reprimanded him.

“There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor,” said Potter.

Snape was incensed, one minute the boy was showing real promise the next moment he’s back to his arrogant self. “Detention, Saturday night, my office,” Snape snapped. “I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter … not even ‘the Chosen One.’" Later than evening when he was telling Azalea about his day she laughed at the incident and told him he had walked into that one, but agreed he had been right to give Harry a detention. 

After a few days settling into his new role, Snape discovered that for the first time in his life he was enjoying teaching. The subject was popular and was one in which he had a genuine interest, this came across in the way he taught it and the students responded with enthusiasm and pertinent questions. It was well known that the Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers hadn’t stayed in post for more than a year. Umbridge, the previous incumbent’s tenure in the post had been, quite frankly, laughable and she had left a lot of lost ground for him to make up. If, (as Azalea had jokingly said to him), he only managed a year in the post then he wanted to make sure that the year counted and made a difference. 

It wasn’t just the new role that was making his life enjoyable, it was also the inclusion of Azalea in his life. Most nights they communicated telepathically and he valued her opinion on his ideas. Just being able to talk through the events of the day and share his joys and his worries, his successes and failures was something he had never been able to do before and he was surprised at how it helped him to keep matters in perspective. He liked to listen the details of her day and offer comfort, support or praise to her. The best times were those precious days when their work and other commitments allowed them to meet in person at Spinners End. One of those times had been towards the end of September. They had eaten their evening meal and were sitting on the sofa, Snape was drinking tea and Azalea had tomato juice and Worcestershire sauce, it would seem she couldn’t drink enough of the stuff. He could tell that Azalea had been itching to tell him something all evening and now she did. She summoned her handbag, being too comfortable to get up and fetch it, she pulled something from the bag and handed it to him her eyes shining with joy and anticipation. He took it from her and looked at it, it was a piece of glossy paper covered in black ink with white lines crossing it. 

She could see he was perplexed and laughed, she sat closer to him and said, “This is an image of our baby. Look here’s its head,” and with her finger traced around one of the white lines, “this is its body.” She traced another line. “Here’s an arm, and I think this is a leg, although it may just be the umbilical cord.” As she described the image his mind made sense of the lines on the paper and all at once he could clearly make out the shape of a baby. It wasn’t in the right proportions, its head was too big for its body and the limbs were too short but it was definitely a baby. He looked at her in amazement and she smiled. “It’s an ultrasound scan. It’s a normal part of antenatal care for muggles. Wizards don’t seem to do this. Don’t you think it makes it more real? There actually is a baby in here,” she patted her abdomen “and it’s not just me putting on weight, eating strange things and being sick every day.” He stared at the image in wonder - she was right, this made it all real. Their baby still in the womb but there is was – a reality. Azalea said calmly, “It was a shame you couldn’t have been with me, it was moving, little twitches, it didn’t want to stay still for this photograph. But everything is fine, the pregnancy is progressing normally, I’m fine and the baby’s fine.” 

He held her tightly to him, and rested his hand gently on her swelling belly, there might be danger around every corner and terrible things going on in the world; Voldemort was back, the dementors running amok, deaths and murders, but for this blessed period of time in his life he was happy and, selfish as it may sound, he was relieved to know that all was well.


	62. Autimn Term

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape saves Katie Bell's life. Slughorn's Christmas party.

Snape’s feelings of happiness that everything was well lasted for a few more weeks before something happened that gave him a sharp reminder of the dangerous times he was living in and brought him out of his complacency.

The students had one of their regular trips to Hogsmeade. The Hogwarts staff and Dumbledore had discussed at length whether the trips should still go ahead given the need for security but eventually concluded that they should. The school activities should try and remain as normal as possible and it was good for the students to get out of the confines of the castle. The four aurors at Hogsmeade were warned to be extra vigilant. Like many of the teachers, Snape usually remained in the school on those occasions but this day some of the teachers volunteered to go to watch out for danger. Snape was relieved he was not one of them and stayed in his office doing work and talking to Azalea through their mind link. 

He was interrupted by a knocking on the door and Filch walked in carrying something wrapped in a scarf. “Professor McGonagall asked me to bring this to you,” said Filch as he sidled in through the door in his usual secretive manner, “but you’re not to touch it.” Filch liked to be the bearer of bad news so he told Snape that a girl had been injured by this and she was now in the hospital wing. Snape thanked him and waited in non-moving silence until Filch took the hint and left the room. When he was alone, Snape gingerly unwrapped the object from the scarf ensuring that he did not touch it. Inside was an ornate silver and opal necklace. He didn’t need Azalea’s gift of seeing colours on enchanted objects to know that this one had been cursed. He cast an investigative spell which confirmed his suspicions; the necklace was cursed and by the look of it several lives had already been claimed. He put it into a secure box, wrote a warning note on the top of it and locked it away in a cupboard only he had access to. 

Filch had mentioned that a girl had been injured and Snape set off to find Professor McGonagall. He met her a short way from her office and as they walked together to the hospital wing she filled him in the events. According to the testimony from Potter and his friends it seemed that Katie Bell, the injured girl, had been given the necklace when she was in The Three Broomsticks and told to give it to someone at Hogwarts, she had probably been put under an imperius curse when the instruction was given. On the walk back to Hogwarts Katie and her friend, Leanne, had argued over whether or not the package should be taken to school, in the scuffle it had torn open and must have touched Katie.

Snape recalled Katie as a capable but unremarkable student, she produced adequate work and did not contribute much in class discussions. They arrived at the hospital wing. Katie had been laid down on a bed and Madam Pomfrey was examining her, she looked up to see who had entered the room and her relief at seeing Snape walk in was clear. “Professor Snape” she said, “this has been caused by the dark arts, would you be so kind as to have a look and give me your opinion?” 

Snape nodded and approached the bed. Katie was no longer writhing and screaming as she had been when she had first touched the necklace but was now emitting occasional sobs. He lifted her right hand, she was still wearing the gloves she’d had on when she went to Hogsmeade. He noticed a small hole on the index finger of the right glove but the left one was undamaged. “See this hole?” he said to Madam Pomfrey, “the necklace must have just brushed against the skin showing through. If she had held it an ungloved hand she would have been killed immediately. As it is I think I can slow down the spread of the curse but she will need to go to St Mungos for proper treatment.”

“Thank you Severus, said Madam Pomfrey, “please do what you can. I’ll see to Leanne who is suffering from shock.” She crossed over to Leanne who was at the far end of the infirmary. Professor McGonagall went with her to see if she could elicit more details about what had happened from Leanne. 

Snape was left alone with Katie he poised his wand over her injured finger and muttered the incantation to prevent the spread of the curse. Had he done enough? There was one person who might be able to tell him. He shifted position so that his face could not be seen by the other people in the room. ^^Azalea^^ he called.

^^This isn’t a convenient time, Severus, I’m at work. Can it wait?^^

^^No. I need your help. One of the students has been struck by a dark curse.^^

^^In that case, I’ll just go somewhere quiet so I can concentrate. Give me the details as I walk.^^ Severus quickly told her what had happened. ^^How long ago did this occur?^^ she asked.

^^20 minutes or half an hour.^^ he replied.

^^What have you done so far?^^ she asked.

^^I’ve used a spell to slow it down and try to contain it.^^

^^That’s a good start but you need to draw out the curse as soon as possible. Do you remember when I did it after Voldemort cut you?^^ It was a rhetorical question and she didn’t wait for a reply. ^^You need to make a poultice.^^ She reeled off the ingredients he would need and he searched the hospital supply cupboard to find them. Madam Pomfrey came over to see what he was doing, once she knew the purpose of his search she assisted him to make the poultice. 

He rolled the mixture into a ball and held it over Katie’s hand. ^^Where do I put it?^^ he asked Azalea.

^^It needs to be positioned precisely over the curse to be the most effective. Don’t forget that the curse will already have moved from its entry point.^^

^^How far?^^ he appealed to her.

^^It depends on many factors such as the entry point, how much movement she’s made, how long ago it happened. There are signs to look for but some of them are quite subtle, even experienced healers don’t always get it right.^^

^^Azalea, if I get this wrong and she dies, I will be blamed. She’s a student and I don’t want her to die. I must help her. Tell me what to look for.^^

^^Severus, there is a way using our mind link. Let me look through your eyes and I can tell you where to position it exactly in place.^^ she said.

^^Lend you my eyes?^^ he asked in horror, ^^you mean to possess me?^^

^^It’s not possession, it’s borrowing.^^ she replied, ^^Anyway I thought I already did possess you.^^ she added flippantly.

^^You do, but it’s not the same thing.^^ he said irritated at her for her lack of seriousness given the situation.

^^I know, I understand the difference. I wouldn’t ask but it’s the best way to ensure that we save Katie, the way we couldn’t save Dumbledore.^^

Her mention of Dumbledore decided it for him, which he was sure had been her intention. ^^All right, I agree^^ he said and opened his mind for her. He felt her gentle touch move towards his eyes, as he looked at Katie his vision clouded then became clear again. He could see things the way Azalea saw them, a dark shadow was on Katie’s hand, already it had crept up from her finger to the back of her hand. His first spell had slowed it down but not enough. 

He placed the poultice over the shadow as he did so he saw his own hand and stared transfixed, it was covered in a red twine like a flame twisted around his hand. He gave a start when he saw it and he heard Azalea whisper ^^that’s how I knew you’d made an unbreakable vow.^^ He glanced around the room, it was bright and colourful, in the cupboards the medical potions glowed in a rainbow of hues, enchanted objects had an aura surrounding them, shimmering in the sunlight.

^^Is this how you see?^^

^^Yes. Now move the poultice slightly to the left, down a little. That will do. Now take your wand and say this incantation “finite maledictum”. Keep saying it and use the strength of your will to force the black shadow into the poultice.^^ Azalea kept silent whilst Severus concentrated on the task. Using her vision he could see the curse slowly moving into the poultice, it fought him all the way and by the time he’d finished he was covered in a sheen of sweat. Azalea withdrew from his eyes and the world went dark again, he regained his own vision and the room looked flat and dull. He threw the tainted poultice into a bag and secured it. ^^Send that with her so it can be analysed.^^ Azalea instructed him, before adding, ^^You did well, darling, we’ll make a healer of you yet!^^

^^I think one healer in the family is enough,^^ he replied. ^^Thank you for saving her life.^^

^^You saved her life, I just directed you. Let her rest at Hogwarts tonight but she should be sent to St Mungo’s first thing tomorrow, she still has a long road to recovery.^^

Madam Pomfrey had been watching Snape whilst he removed the curse and could see the effort it had cost him. He was sweating and his gaze seemed far away and unfocussed. “Professor?” she asked solicitously. Snape ended his connection to Azalea quickly telling her he loved her and regarded Madam Pomfrey who said. “I think you’ve been successful, you saved her life.”

“That was my intention,” he replied with a wry smile. “We should send her to St Mungo’s tomorrow to complete her recovery. Now I shall leave you to look after your patients.” 

As he left the room Madam Pomfrey wondered about the contradictions of Professor Snape, he appeared to dislike students as a whole and some individuals in particular, yet he would give everything he had to save them. These past couple of months, since he had started his new teaching post he had seemed much happier, once or twice when he thought he was unobserved she would see him smiling to himself as if someone had just whispered something amusing into his ear for him alone to hear. He should smile more often - it suited him.

\--oOo--

Professor McGonagall had told Snape that Potter suspected Malfoy as being involved with the cursed necklace, but she didn’t think he could be because he had been with her doing detention at the time. For once Snape thought that Potter was probably correct. McGonagall thought the best of people, it would have been easy enough for Malfoy to use the imperius curse on Katie Bell. Snape tried to speak to Malfoy alone but the boy kept evading him and after a while he left it until he had more proof or an opportunity presented itself. That opportunity did not arise until almost the end of term at Slughorn’s Christmas party.

Snape wasn’t going to accept his invitation to Slughorn’s party until he discovered that Filius Flitwick had invited Azalea to be his guest. “I would have invited you if you really wanted to come,” he said when she’d told him.

“How would you explain your choice of guest, we’re just acquaintances?” she pointed out. “I’d like to go and catch up with everyone, I don’t see enough of Filius and Charity these days, or Harry and his friends for that matter.”

“I wish I saw less of Potter,” he muttered. “How are you going to explain this?” he asked patting her swollen belly.

“I think most people know how babies are made,” she said deliberately misunderstanding him.

“Be serious!” he said. “You know what I mean – the identity of the father?”

“Severus, I haven’t said anything about who the father is but people are starting to make assumptions.”

“What are people assuming?” he asked cautiously.

“You’re not going to like it,” she warned him. “The Order of the Phoenix members are assuming that Sirius is the father.”

His face turned pale at the suggestion and she saw his eyes and mouth tense, “Why would they think that?” he asked tightly.

“Because we’d been friends, because I’d stayed at his house for months, because I went into the Veil after him, because I was upset when he died and because he left me a large legacy in his will.”

“Is that all?” Severus said sarcastically.

“I think I may have said something that they misunderstood and also led them to the same conclusion,” she said sheepishly. Severus glared at her but she continued. “A couple of months ago I was talking to Molly and Tonks about Sirius and the legacy when I mentioned that Sirius had left me more than he knew. I was thinking of the Gringotts shares but when they realised a few weeks ago that I was pregnant they remembered what I’d said and took it mean he was the father. I didn’t deny it but I didn’t confirm it either.”

“Why him?” Severus almost shouted, “Of all the people in the world why him?”

“You’re the one who wants to keep secrets,” she responded heatedly. “You know I’m not afraid to tell everyone that you are the father of my child and my husband. Sirius isn’t the father – you know that. How can I help what conclusions people come to if I can’t tell them the truth? Do you want me to say that I fell pregnant after a casual encounter with someone I met only once? At least if they think it is Sirius they know there was affection between us and that I’m not a woman of easy virtue. It’s hard enough being an unmarried mother in the wizard world as it is without adding my moral standing to the equation. The main reason I haven’t been sacked from work is because they think my muggle upbringing is at fault!”

Severus anger faded away with her last words, “Why haven’t you mentioned your work before?”

“It doesn’t matter now, the scandal has blown over. They’re granting me maternity leave. They know healers will be needed when the war comes, even part trained ones like me. ” She smiled and continued to speak. “Most people at work assume that Edward is the father. They remember how he sat by my bed every day when I was unconscious and sang to me. They tell me how they could hear in his voice the love he had for me and the longing for me to come back to him. They tell me that he is a good man and will make a fine father.”

His anger completely gone he said softly, “They’re right about my love for you. I can bear anything for the love of you, even allowing people to think Black is the father of my child. If this will keep you and the baby safe then I can bear it.”

“You don’t have to bear it alone,” Azalea told him, “you have me. You have my love and my trust in you that we are doing the right thing by this deception, but there is one thought that occurs to me.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“You’d better make sure you never come to St Mungo’s under your real name. Voldemort had spies even in the hospital, if someone were to realise that Edward and Severus Snape were one and the same person, all this subterfuge would be undone.”

“I see no reason why I should ever need to go to St Mungo’s, so you have nothing to fear from that,” he replied before taking her in his arms and losing himself in her love for him.

\--oOo--

Azalea arrived at Slughorn’s party with Filius. She had hoped that Charity would be there but she was away visiting her son. Azalea could hear the music, laughter and conversation long before they went in. Slughorn's office had been decorated for the occasion, the ceilings and walls draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings. An ornate gold lamp hung from the centre of the ceiling and bathed the room in a red light. Loud singing accompanied by mandolins came from a corner and a haze of pipe smoke hung around some elderly warlocks deep in conversation. “This decoration makes it look like a bordello,” Azalea whispered to Filius. 

Filius sniggered, “Don’t tell him that - he thinks he has good taste in all things.” 

They approached the food table and filled their plates. Azalea took a bite of something unidentifiable from her plate, she grimaced as she bit into it, whether it was her pregnancy affecting her taste buds or if it was genuinely bad tasting she wasn’t sure. Severus joined them at that moment and seeing her face said, “I’d avoid those if I were you, they’re ghastly.”

“So I’ve just noticed, your warning comes too late for me.” She pointed to the food on Filius’ plate, “I’d give those a miss, Filius. I could do with a drink to get rid of the taste.” 

“I’ll get you one,” offered Severus and set off to find one without asking her what she wanted, knowing it would be tomato juice and Worcestershire sauce. “Shall I fetch a drink for you too Filius?”

“Yes please, just a mug of beer. There are students here so we can’t overindulge.” Filius looked around the room and saw Professor Trelawney talking to Luna and Harry. “Oh dear,” he said, “I think Sybill has been overindulging already. I worry about her you know.” They watched Severus walk past Sybill on his way to the drinks table. At the same time Slughorn approached her from the other direction and drew Severus into the conversation. “It looks like our drinks are going to be delayed,” said Filius, “Once Horace starts talking he can go on for ages.” They waited a couple more moments and saw Filch bringing Draco Malfoy up to the group of people they were watching. Slughorn and Severus exchanged a few words and then Severus marched out of the room with Draco following him. “I suppose we won’t be getting drinks at all, now,” remarked Filius. “I’ll go and get them. What were you having, Azalea?”

“Tomato juice with Worcestershire sauce please,” she said. Curious to find out what Severus was up to she said, “I need to go the bathroom, Filius. I’ll be back in a minute.” 

As she walked towards the door she saw Harry slip out just in front of her. Once she entered the hall she looked around for him but couldn’t see him, which was odd because he hadn’t been that far in front of her. She looked up and down the corridor and noticed the unmistakable glow of an enchanted object moving from door to door. She hastily hid herself using the concealment charm and walked casually down the corridor until she saw the object stop by one door and remain there. As she got closer she could see through the glow of the enchantment and saw Harry hidden inside it listening at the keyhole in the door. She stopped and waited standing quietly in the shadows. After a few minutes Harry suddenly jumped up and threw himself to one side, the door burst open and out stormed Draco who raced away up the corridor and out of sight. He was shortly followed by Snape who slowly returned to the party. Azalea observed that Harry, still lying down on the floor, had been unnoticed by both Draco and Severus. Harry stood up from the floor and pulled something which had been covering him. Suddenly she could see him normally and he held an enchanted object in his hand which he hastily rolled up and stuffed back in his pocket. She smiled as she realised that Harry had an invisibility cloak – that explained a lot. She would keep his secret and not tell Severus. 

Harry was eager to tell Ron and Hermione about the conversation he had just overhead between Draco and Snape. That Snape had been offering to help Malfoy with something and Malfoy had refused his help. Ron wasn’t at the party and Harry preferred to tell his friends this information somewhere private, he decided to leave it until the three of them were together. He went back to the party, he had told Luna he wouldn’t be long and he didn’t want to abandon her. He remembered seeing Azalea at the party, she’d been at the food table with Professor Flitwick. Harry had seen the look of distaste on Azalea’s face when Snape had joined them. He had heard a rumour that Sirius was the father of the baby she was expecting but it was a subject he was far too embarrassed to discuss with her and so he hadn’t spoken to her for a while. Perhaps he should go and talk to her now to keep Snape away from her. 

Harry couldn’t immediately see Azalea at the party but saw her slip in through the door and go over to Professor Flitwick who had passed her a drink he was holding. Professor Slughorn had noticed her come in and introduced himself to her, no doubt trying to find out if she was any one of importance or influence. She must have mentioned that she was Harry’s cousin because Slughorn bellowed for Harry to come and join them. When he reached them Slughorn said in a slurred voice, “Harry, you never told me you were related to such a beautiful and talented witch as Azalea.” Slughorn peered at Azalea through bloodshot eyes and said, “I may call you Azalea, may I not?”

“Of course you may, Horace,” Azalea said in her friendly way that put people at ease.

“Do you know?” Slughorn said in a loud conspiratorial whisper to Azalea, “Harry is an exceptionally gifted potion maker, a natural just like his mother was.”

Azalea glanced over at Harry who blushed at this effusive praise, Azalea got the impression Harry was also looking a little guilty and she wondered if there was more to this sudden improvement than met the eye. Severus had always been scathing of Harry’s skill at potion making which Azalea had taken him to task about on several occasions. In her opinion Harry was more competent than Severus gave him credit for but she wouldn’t have described him as exceptional. 

Flitwick, Slughorn and Azalea were all very good at socialising and before long a large crowd had formed around them, attracted like moths to the candles burning brightly at the centre. Harry moved away; glad to go back to friends of his own age. He noticed Snape skulking around the fringe of the crowd, in his hands he was carrying a mug of beer and a glass of something that looked like dirty blood.


	63. Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Albus share information.

It was third time lucky for Azalea and Severus to have a happy Christmas. The first Christmas they tried to spend together had been marred when Severus saw the video showing Lily, the second Christmas they spent apart after Azalea had accidentally frozen her soul, but this year it was perfect. With the impending birth of the baby, Azalea’s lodger had moved out, so they had her house to themselves with no fear of interruption. Azalea had managed to secure two weeks holiday from work and spent it all with Severus.

Like Azalea, many of her friends were now in stable relationships and Christmas meant spending time with family and in-laws. Azalea’s aunt Lucy had gone to visit her son and his family. So Christmas day and Boxing day found Severus and Azalea on their own in Azalea’s house with Winky and Benny. They loved it. Azalea took Severus to a Christmas carol service and the people standing around them fell silent when Severus first sang, his pure melodic voice ringing out above theirs. When they returned home, Winky had done most of the preparation for Christmas dinner; they insisted she join them at the table to eat it, which she considered a great honour, despite Azalea assuring Winky that she was Azalea’s friend not her servant. Benny was being particularly cute and he loved playing with the wrapping paper scattered over the floor after they had all opened their presents.

“Just think,” said Azalea, who was lying on the sofa after dinner with her feet resting on Severus lap, “this time next year it will be our baby playing with the paper with Benny toddling around investigating everything.”

“And the year after that,” said Severus, “We will have our second baby in the cradle and our first will be toddling around investigating everything, with Benny shouting at them both.”

“I’d like that,” said Azalea, “I want to have more than one child. It must be nice to have brothers and sisters.” Severus started to massage one of Azalea’s feet, she closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure. “That feels so nice,” she said, “I’m told my feet will ache even more nearer the end of the pregnancy. You can be my official foot masseur.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady,” he said. He noticed that Winky, who had been playing with Benny on the floor, snapped to attention at his choice of words and he winked at her. Winky saw she wasn’t needed and resumed the game with her child.

“Leah,” he said as he took her other foot and began to massage that one, “now that you’re a wealthy woman, with the money that you inherited.” (He didn’t like to acknowledge that Black had given it to her and would avoid saying his name if he could), “Do you really need to carry on working? Even without that money I could support us both, and the baby.”

Azalea opened her eyes and looked at him levelly, “Yes I do,” she said. “It’s not really about the money any more. For the past 5 or 6 years I’ve had one temporary job after another, now I’ve found something permanent, something I enjoy and something useful. I don’t want to give up part way through my training. I think Healers are going to be in great demand, unfortunately, when Voldemort finally makes his move and I’ll be able to contribute to the war effort.”

He had anticipated that she would reply along those lines but he had needed to ask. He knew there would be no point in arguing with her about it either. “All right,” he said resignedly, “but if the war does happen make sure you keep safe, well away from the fighting. We don’t want our children to be orphans before they are even out of nappies.”

Azalea felt a coldness steal over her heart as he spoke. “Orphans?” she repeated, “you’re not planning on dying in the war and leaving me behind are you?”

“No, I will never leave you,” he stated as a simple fact. “But my role in this war puts me in great danger as you know. I will almost certainly be on the front line, I will do my best not to be killed and it will ease my mind if I know that you and the children are safe.”

A voice came from behind them, “Winky will make sure my lady stays safe, Master Severus.”

Azalea and Severus both turned to look at her, she was holding Benny tightly to her, with a determined and utterly devoted expression on her face. “Thank you Winky,” said Severus, his voice choked with emotion at the loyalty of the house elves who were so easily overlooked by wizards. “I know I can always count on you.”

They didn’t return to that sombre subject again during the rest of the holiday. Azalea decided that the bedroom the lodger had used needed to be redecorated for the baby and she wanted it done the muggle way. Severus didn’t want her moving furniture, climbing ladders, painting walls and ceilings and told her he would do it. He did his best with the decorating and Azalea laughed at his attempts which, admittedly, improved under her guidance. The end result was not perfect but Azalea said it had been done with love and that was far more important to her than perfection. She told him when she looked at the areas where the paint was uneven or where the ceiling paint overlapped the wall paint she would remember the laughter and companionship of the time they spent together making a home for their first child. The holiday period came to an end but they both returned to work more in love than ever and looking forward, with a natural degree of nervousness, to the birth of their child. 

\---oOo---

January and February passed fairly uneventfully at Hogwarts. Snape was puzzled as to Potter’s new found brilliance at potions. Slughorn was always mentioning it in the staff room. Snape was sure it wasn’t to do with Slughorn’s teaching and neither did Slughorn claim it was. The man indulged his students far too much, especially his favourite students and let Potter get away with behaviour and cheek that Snape would never have tolerated. However, he didn’t waste much of his time considering this as he was no longer the potions master.

The demands and summons from Voldemort had been mercifully few this year. The Dark Lord was busying himself with causing havoc in the muggle world. He had been behind many disasters such as collapsed bridges, fires, murders and had even claimed that some natural disasters, like floods and severe weather, were due to him. No one dared to contradict him and so his reputation and power increased among the Death Eaters and wizard world alike. Every so often Voldemort would call his inner circle to meet at Malfoy Manor, where he still resided. Today was one such day. Snape marched up the path towards the manor house, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. He composed himself as he walked, emptying his mind and focussing his thoughts on Death Eater subjects to mentally place himself in the role he was playing. When Dumbledore had injured his arm Snape had told Voldemort as soon as he could. There was no point in delaying - it wasn’t something that could be hidden and it fitted Snape’s role as Voldemort’s spy in Hogwarts. Snape had underplayed the severity of the injury but Voldemort had been delighted; it proved his enemy wasn’t invincible. Snape reached the entrance door to the manor and let himself in. Narcissa was waiting for him just inside the door; she pulled him to one side and asked how he was getting on with looking out for Draco.

At Slughorn’s party Snape had unsuccessfully tried to get Draco Malfoy to confide in him about the task he had been given by Voldemort to kill Dumbledore but Draco had refused his help. Snape had noticed how ill Draco was looking, he had bags under his eyes, his skin was grey and he was thin as a rake. Snape had later seen that Draco picked at his food, barely eating a thing; he had become withdrawn and rarely made the effort to bully the younger and weaker children, which was the only good thing about his situation. Snape had smiled to himself when he made the last observation; before he met Azalea such a thought would never have crossed his mind. Snape had repeatedly tried to talk to Draco, he ordered him to his office and the boy either failed to turn up or sat there in sullen silence. Snape had seriously considered using Veritaserum, a truth potion, but decided it would be counterproductive. Certainly he would obtain the information he was after but Draco would tell Voldemort which would destroy Snape’s position as Voldemort’s loyal follower. All he could do was watch Draco’s movements and hope he saw something to give him a clue as to the boy’s plan. 

Now he regarded Narcissa’s pale face, etched with worry for her son. Impending fatherhood had made him re-evaluate a parent’s attachment to their child and he didn’t want to add to her concerns by telling her how ill Draco looked. “I regret to say that he resists my efforts to help him. He has already made one attempt but it was amateurish and would never have fooled its intended target.” Snape stood a little closer and lowered his voice, “Narcissa, it is my belief that Bellatrix is encouraging him to work alone.”

Narcissa hissed in anger and stormed into the drawing room where the Death Eaters were waiting for Voldemort to arrive and dragged her sister out. “Is it true that you are encouraging Draco to work alone, to reject Severus’s help?” she demanded.

Bellatrix replied easily, “I’ve been giving him some help, teaching him occlumency.”

“How does that help?” Narcissa asked.

“It would prevent the headmaster from divining his intentions,” said Bellatrix.

“It also stops me from assisting Draco,” Snape said in frustration.

“An unintended consequence,” she said dismissively. “Draco is honoured to be able to carry out a special request for the Dark Lord. He will rise in the Dark Lord’s estimation if he completes the task, without your help. ” Her eyes took on the fanatical look they did when she spoke of Voldemort and matched her wild appearance. “He has placed his trust in your son, Narcissa. If only the Dark Lord would give me such a task, I would never let him down; I am his most loyal follower.”

“But he is expecting Draco to fail!” exclaimed Snape. 

“He is punishing us for Lucius being unable to obtain the prophecy,” Narcissa added in a harsh whisper.

“The Dark Lord will not tolerate failure. Nor will he tolerate disloyalty.” Bellatrix stared pointedly at Snape and finished. “From anyone.”

“As I have already explained to you, Bellatrix, I am loyal to the Dark Lord,” Snape said as if talking to a child. “I made an Unbreakable Vow to show my loyalty. You know what would happen to me if I broke such a vow.”

“Oh yes,” she smirked, “that would be another unintended consequence.”

\---oOo---

February drew to an end. Azalea had started her maternity leave and the baby could come any day. Snape worried every time she contacted him and also when she didn’t, in case the baby started to come. He was far more irritable with his students than he had been since he started to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. The students just put it down to him returning to his usual ways. Snape even allowed his anxiety to affect the way he interacted with Dumbledore. They were walking together at twilight in the grounds of the castle and he argued with the headmaster about Dumbledore’s lack of trust in him, about how Dumbledore was telling Potter secrets and information but not sharing the same information with him. Snape reminded him of the risks he took at the headmaster’s request and that Dumbledore expected Snape to kill him, something he did not want to do. Dumbledore looked at Snape’s anxious, mutinous face and agreed to speak to him later that evening where he would tell him more.

Snape sat in the chair in Dumbledore’s office whilst the headmaster walked slowly around the office telling Snape that when Voldemort had tried to kill Harry as a baby but had killed Lily instead, unknown to Voldemort a fragment of his soul had lodged itself in Harry, it was this that was the reason for the connection between Voldemort and Harry. All the time Voldemort’s soul was protected by Harry, Voldemort cannot die.

“So the boy … the boy must die?” asked Snape quite calmly.

“And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.”

After a long silence Snape said, “I thought … all these years … that we were protecting him for her. For Lily.”

“We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength,” said Dumbledore. “Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth: Sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will truly mean the end of Voldemort.”

Snape was horrified. “You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?”

“Don’t be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?”

“Lately, only those whom I could not save,” said Snape. He stood up. “You have used me.”

“Meaning?”

“I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter’s son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter —”

“But this is touching, Severus,” said Dumbledore seriously. “Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?”

“For him?” shouted Snape. “Expecto Patronum!”

From the tip of his wand burst a silver doe, she landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears.

“After all this time?”

“Always,” said Snape.

Dumbledore regarded Snape’s sorrowful face before saying, “I thought that Miss Bennett had stolen your heart, I see I was mistaken.”

Snape’s expression softened at the mention of Azalea, “Not completely mistaken Albus, she didn’t steal my heart – I gave it to her.”

“And has she given you her heart?” Dumbledore asked gently.

“Yes, willingly and without compulsion. I love Lily and I always will but the way I feel about Azalea is different - she is my soul mate, she is the half of me I was not aware was missing and now I wonder how I ever survived without it.” 

Dumbledore remembered the time when he, himself, had been in love and how he had found his own soulmate. He hoped that Severus fared better in love than he had, the man deserved some happiness. “And the child she carries?” he enquired.

“It is mine, another gift she has given to me that I never would have hoped for.” With anxiety written all over his face, Snape appealed to Dumbledore, “How can I tell her about Harry? That the only way to see the end of Voldemort is by Harry’s death? She loves her cousin and I love her, I cannot bear to see her hurt.”

“I’m truly sorry for you both, Severus,” said Dumbledore with pity in voice.

Snape was aware that Dumbledore’s life expectation was growing shorter by the day and he wanted to confide in him. He was the only man that Snape had ever truly trusted, someone who would not betray the secrets he was about to tell him. “Albus, there is something I wish to tell you - Azalea and I are married, we have been for almost a year now.”

Dumbledore was surprised at this news, it was completely unexpected. Severus was exceptionally good at keeping secrets. “There is no prohibition about Hogwarts’ staff being married, Severus. You could have done it openly. I would have liked to have attended your wedding.”

“Keeping it secret serves a valuable purpose, Albus. I fear that if the Dark Lord ever discovers my true motives he would not hesitate to exact his revenge on those I loved as well as on me. I suffer from nightmares where he tortures Azalea in front of me and I am unable to save her.”

“That is just a dream, Severus, you shouldn’t fear your dreams. But perhaps you are right that she is safer if Voldemort doesn’t know.”

“There is another fact about Azalea that Voldemort does not know,” Snape said and piqued Dumbledore’s curiosity. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in query and Snape told him, “Azalea is his granddaughter.”

Dumbledore sat down heavily on his chair, “You are full of surprises today Severus! Now I know what it was about her that I could never quite put my finger on, she has his look. I can see Tom Riddle in her face.”

“Azalea’s grandmother made the same observation when she first saw her,” Snape told him. “I anticipate that the Dark Lord would react badly if he knew he had a granddaughter so I have erred on the side of caution and kept silent.”

“You must always keep silent about this,” Dumbledore said urgently to Snape. 

Snape resumed his seat on the other side of the desk and asked passionately, “Why, Albus? At the risk of being tactless, you have little time left in this world, if there is something we should know please tell me now. Tomorrow could be too late.”

Dumbledore had spent his life collecting and keeping secrets, some of them would die with him but this one didn’t have to, it was of more value spoken than left unspoken. “There is a legend or perhaps a prophecy about the Slytherin bloodline,” he began and Snape sat back in his chair listening intently. “It dates back centuries, it may have been garbled since it was first told but it is said that one in the line of Slytherin will have the power to cheat death.”

“Having the power and using it are two different things,” interjected Snape.

Dumbledore smiled saying, “I can hear Miss Bennett’s influence on you.”

“We are of one mind in many things,” Snape said. “I interrupted you, is there more to the story?”

“Indeed there is. When Tom Riddle heard this he thought himself to be the last in the Slytherin bloodline and so concluded the prophecy must be about him because no Slytherin going before him had the power to cheat death. Just to be sure he went back to all the women he had known to see if any of them had given birth to a child that might be his.”

Snape gasped, “But he found him - Azalea’s father, - when he was a boy of about 11 or 12 years old. Riddle said – “this child is a squib it is no son of mine.””

Dumbledore observed, “Never has a child been so lucky as to be born a squib. Riddle would not be able to imagine that he could father a non-magical child and in his arrogance assumed it wasn’t his.”

“So the Dark Lord believes his search for immortality is his birth right,” said Snape in horror. “If he discovers he has living descendants he will kill them without mercy for thwarting him in a prophecy that he believes refers to him.”

“I would anticipate that would be his reaction,” Dumbledore confirmed “but you would know better than me.”

“Does that mean that my child may have the power to cheat death?” asked Snape without really thinking it through in his concern for his family’s safety.

“Not necessarily,” Dumbledore explained, “You and Azalea could have many more children and live to be grandparents and great grandparents. You could be the founders of a renewed Slytherin blood line. The prophecy (if that is what it is) does not specify which of the Slytherin bloodline will have this power. It could be Voldemort or it may not come to pass for generations.”

“Four children,” Snape said quietly, “Azalea and I would like four children, neither of us had brothers or sisters, we would not want the same for our child.”

Dumbledore looked at the man sitting in front of him, how love could change people. He now had absolute faith that Snape would honour his promise to protect Harry; he needn’t have feared that Azalea would distract him, if anything Snape’s love for both Lily and Azalea had strengthened his resolve. He said, “Severus, I am glad you told me this. It means that Voldemort is not the last of the Slytherin bloodline and so if the prophecy is true, he may not be the subject of it. It eases my passing to know that his method of seeking immortality is flawed and he can be defeated.”

Snape said sadly, “He can be defeated but only at the cost of Potter’s life. It is a price that Azalea would find too hard to pay.”

“Whatever the outcome of the final battle Azalea will lose someone,” Dumbledore said, “either a cousin or her grandfather. Remember, love is the key to victory, something Voldemort does not yet understand.”


	64. Welcome to the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron gets poisoned, Azalea has her baby.

Potter cemented his reputation with Slughorn as a potion’s expert when he saved Ron from certain death after Ron had drunk poisoned mead. Snape got the story from Slughorn in the staff room - Potter had shoved a bezoar in Ron’s mouth whilst Slughorn panicked. Not that Slughorn admitted to panicking but Snape interpreted the story that way. At least it showed that some of Snape’s teaching had got through to Potter. Slughorn was worried that someone had been trying to poison him. Upon further questioning Snape discovered that the Slughorn had intended to give the bottle of mead to Dumbledore for Christmas but it “had slipped his mind.” No wonder, thought Snape when he examined the bottle of mead – it was a very good vintage. In fact, the last time he had seen a bottle of this particular vintage had been at Malfoy Manor. Slughorn had told Snape he had made a general comment in one of his classes that he’d be grateful for any suggestions as to what he could get Dumbledore for Christmas. A few days later a boy had turned up with the bottle of mead that Rosemerta, the landlady of the Three Broomsticks, had given to him when he went to Hogsmeade. 

“What was the name of the boy?” asked Snape.

“Oh a very quiet boy. Likes to hide at the back of the class,” said Slughorn struggling to remember the name, “Ah, got it – Pritchard, Graham Pritchard.”

Snape could see this incident had Draco Malfoy written all over it, despite the apparent involvement of Pritchard. He managed to corner Malfoy in the corridor leading to the Slytherin Common Room and spoke to him. “Draco, what do you know about the poisoned mead that Professor Slughorn had?”

“Nothing. Why would I know anything about that?” he responded sulkily.

“You know perfectly well why I am asking you. You had hoped that Dumbledore would drink the mead if it was given to him by Professor Slughorn. You clearly do not know Professor Slughorn very well, it was a good vintage of mead and he would want to keep it for himself.” Malfoy shrugged indifferently and Snape continued, “You need to be more precise in your attempts, it seems that you do not care how many people may be killed or injured before you reach the intended victim.”

Malfoy shrugged again, “Collateral damage. Weasley’s no loss to the world.”

“Collateral damage!” exclaimed Snape. “Who has been teaching you values like that? We are in a school, it is your fellow students who have been affected so far - you must allow me to help you so there will be no more “collateral damage”.”

Malfoy glared at him, “I have all the help I need and from better, more loyal people than you.”

“You watch your words, Malfoy,” warned Snape, “I am loyal but I am also careful, it is for that reason that I have survived for as long as I have.” Malfoy made a move to leave and Snape said, “One more thing, Malfoy, you will not use innocents like Graham Pritchard to carry out your dirty work for you. If you need help ask me.” Malfoy pushed past Snape and strode away.

\---oOo---

A few days later Severus got the call from Azalea just as he was about to start the afternoon lessons. ^^My waters have broken, the baby’s on its way.^^

He answered at once, ^^I’m leaving right now.^^

^^No!^^ she replied, ^^It will be hours before anything happens. I’m at home, Lucy is with me. You don’t want to raise suspicions at work. Come when you’ve finished for the day.^^

^^Do you seriously think I can teach today while you are at home having our baby?^^ he asked incredulously.

^^Yes, I do seriously think that.^^

^^You expect too much of me.^^

^^Everyone expects too much from you, Severus. But I won’t be one of them today. Come when you think is best; I want you here with me at the end.^^

The teaching staff at Hogwarts were used to Professor Snape occasionally having to leave at short notice; Dumbledore had instructed them to co-operate and not to ask questions, consequently, Snape was able to quickly arrange cover for his afternoon lessons. Half an hour later he was with Azalea in her house. She was pacing around the living room when he arrived. He embraced her and kissed her. She smiled and said, “It’s lucky you arrived between contractions so I could greet you properly. At the moment I’m having contractions about every 20 minutes. We’ve rang up the hospital and they said to come in when I’m having them every 5 minutes but I don’t think I can last that long – I’ll go in much sooner than that!” Azalea had been adamant that she wanted to give birth in a muggle hospital, not a wizard one, partly because of fear of discovery by Voldemort and partly because she understood the muggle system and had more confidence in it. 

Severus had read the pregnancy and childbirth books and attended an antenatal session for first time fathers but none of it had prepared him for the reality of childbirth when it involved the woman he loved. As the afternoon progressed the contractions became more frequent and more painful for her, she sank into silence when a wave of pain hit. He kept her company, talked to her when she wanted to talk, encouraged her to eat and drink but whatever he did it didn’t seem to be enough compared to what she was going through. He spoke to Lucy about it. “I feel so useless,” he said to her when they both in the kitchen preparing some food to eat now and some to take with them to the hospital.

“You’re not useless,” she assured him, “just being here is enough. Leah needs your emotional support and to give her encouragement when she tires, which she will.”

“I can do that,” he said as he buttered bread for sandwiches.

“And,” Lucy added pausing in her task and looking at him severely, “she may shout and curse you later on when things get harder. Whatever you do don’t take it to heart. She won’t mean it and may not even remember saying it afterwards. It’s just a way of relieving the pressure and pain of what’s she’s going through.”

Severus smiled at Lucy, “I’ll consider them words of love - that she believes in me enough to know that she can say anything to me and I’ll never take offence. Now,” he said returning to the sandwich making, “What’s the best filling to use for these sandwiches?”

In the end he was the one who gave in first and persuaded Azalea (admittedly without much difficulty) to go to hospital before her contractions reached 5 minute intervals. Lucy drove them all to the hospital. Azalea curled up on the back seat of the car with Severus, saying very little. He put his arms around trying to give her strength and to show how much he cared. She responded weakly in between contractions by gently squeezing his hand to indicate she knew he was there. Severus had been tempted to simply apparate to the ward to save Azalea the discomfort of a car drive but their sudden appearance could have been observed by muggles, but more importantly he didn’t want her to experience the nausea and pressure of an appartion when she was already in such pain. They arrived at the hospital which was spread over a large site, with a plethora of road signs at each junction that seemed to be designed to confuse rather than clarify. The hospital buildings were large functionally built boxes with no redeeming architectural features. Lucy dropped them off at the door to the maternity unit while she went to find a parking space. Severus carried the bag Azalea had packed a couple of weeks’ ago in preparation for the big day and she leaned heavily against him as they walked slowly into the building, stopping whenever a contraction came. They had both been to the maternity unit before as part of an antenatal session and he knew where to go to book in. 

Azalea was examined by a midwife who said she wasn’t yet far enough along to be admitted to a delivery suite and they were shown to a communal labour ward to wait a little longer. There were four beds in the ward and two others were occupied. Azalea lay down on a bed and withdrew into herself. Lucy returned from parking the car and sat by the bed with Severus. Every so often Azalea would rally and engage them in conversation but they took their cue from her and when she fell silent they did not press her to continue. When she complained of her back aching, Severus massaged it for her, the action of touching her making him feel useful and closer to her. Azalea closed her eyes and asked him to sing to her. Ignoring the other people in the room he did so, without accompaniment. The room fell silent as he sang and when he finished the first song there was a scattering of applause. He flushed with embarrassment which went unnoticed by Azalea and she asked for more songs. His unease at singing in public was nothing compared to what she was going through and he sang for her for as long as she wanted him to. Lucy sat quietly by the bed, listening and watching the other people in the room. While he was singing she noticed there was a continuous procession of staff coming into the ward to do minor tasks and look with fondness on this man singing in a tender and loving way to his wife. He carried on until Azalea motioned for him to stop, which he did gratefully because his voice was becoming tired. He wondered if she had noticed and was acting in consideration for him.

At irregular intervals nursing staff would check to see if they should move Azalea into a delivery suite and after what seemed hours to Severus they finally did. The delivery suite was clinically arranged with an adjustable bed located in the centre of one white painted wall with monitors nearby. Two uncomfortable looking plastic chairs were placed near the bed. A sink and some cupboards were on the opposite side of the room. There was a window in the room but a blue curtain had been pulled across it blocking out the night sky. Azalea lay down on the bed and was offered some pain relief in the form of a gas which she sucked in through a mouthpiece. She accepted it at once, gripped it tightly and greedily sucked in a lungful of the gas which appeared to take the edge of her pain. 

Severus glanced at the clock, it was gone midnight, he was tired but Azalea must be exhausted and she hadn’t reached the hardest part yet. The midwife said she thought it was time for Azalea to start to push the baby out. Severus helped the midwife to put Azalea in her preferred position to give birth, - sitting up on the bed which was adjusted to make a back rest with her back well supported against pillows. Azalea rested her head back before she started, smiled at him and reached for his hand which he gave to her without hesitation. Lucy busied herself wiping Azalea’s sweaty face with a damp cloth and offered her a sip of water which she took and steeled herself for what was to come. 

Azalea listened to the instructions of the midwife, took two deep breaths and then pushed, as she did so she let out a primordial scream which resonated within Severus and touched an instinctive need to protect her. The sound faded and she rested back against the pillows gathering her strength for the next one. Push followed push and each time she screamed or grunted until the midwife advised her not to waste her energy on shouting and save it for the push. After that she pushed more quietly, Severus found it less distressing when she wasn’t so noisy. He took a cloth and mopped her forehead whispering as he did so that he was proud of her and if he could take her pain away then he would. He saw the red flash in her eyes and suddenly she shouted into his mind ^^you can’t take it away but you bloody well find out what it feels like!^^ She forced her will into his brain and suddenly he was overwhelmed with an agonising pain in his abdomen, as if he was trapped in a vice, its jaws being slowly but inexorably tightened, this was coupled by a pushing action as if he were trying to relieve constipation, and the sense of a large object inching slowly downwards. He let go of her hand and doubled up in agony, the pain started to ease and all at once it stopped. Azalea leant back against the bed with a horrified look on her face. ^^I’m so sorry Severus. I shouldn’t have done that, I’ve had hours to get used to the pain. It was wrong of me to do that. I don’t know what I was thinking about.^^ Tears started to spill from her eyes. 

He leant over her and tenderly touched her face, “Shh,” he whispered, “don’t worry about me, save your strength.”

The midwife, not knowing what had actually happened, said tersely “We’ve got no time to deal with fainting fathers, if you can’t cope then leave the room.”

“I am not leaving,” he said firmly “and I assure you that I will not faint. I will share every moment with my wife.” He had shared a moment with her that no man had ever shared with a woman before and his respect for her and what she was going through increased a thousand fold. 

Azalea was preparing to push again and they all concentrated on her. The minutes stretched on and Severus could see that Azalea was tiring, the midwife encouraged her, “Come on Azalea, you’re nearly there, I can see the top of baby’s head, a few more pushes will do it.” Azalea found the strength from somewhere and following the midwife’s instruction gave another big push. “The head’s out,” announced the midwife, “one more push should get the rest of the baby out, it’s almost all over.” Severus adjusted his line of vision so that he could see his baby being born. Azalea gave one last push and he saw the baby slide out into the midwife’s waiting hands. It was simply incredible to see a little human being coming out of her body, a miracle. Cutting through the antiseptic smell of the delivery room came an earthy, animal smell of the new born. “You’ve got a little boy,” the midwife announced happily. 

“A boy,” said Azalea emotionally and looked between Severus and Lucy, “we have a son.”

The midwife lifted the baby onto Azalea’s chest and for a moment the noise, the medical instruments, the mess of the birth and everyone in the room faded into the background and to Severus the only other people in the room were Azalea and the baby - his family - with Lucy looking on. To him in that moment Azalea was the most wonderful, amazing person in the world, a goddess, the giver of life and his most beloved wife – now and for eternity. The spell was broken when the midwife picked up the baby to check him and to see to Azalea, who was still not finished and had to deliver the afterbirth. 

“7 pounds 10 ounces,” announced a nursing assistant from the other side of the room.

“A good size,” said Lucy to Azalea, “about average.”

The baby was given his post birth checks, everything was fine and normal. The nursing assistant washed him, wrapped him in a blanket and handed him to Azalea, while the midwife looked after Azalea. Once she was done the staff all left the room to give the new family some privacy to enjoy the first precious moments on their own. Lucy also went out saying she was going to find a hot drink and she’d bring some back for Azalea and Severus. 

When they were alone in the room Severus was suddenly emotionally overwhelmed by the witnessing of the birth of his child and he burst into tears. Huge sobs wracked his body, his chest heaved and tears streamed unchecked down his face, but overall he felt a profound sense of relief – his wife was safe, his baby well, they’d all made it through the long day. 

“Severus, are you all right?” Azalea’s concerned voice broke through his emotional state.

He took deep breaths to calm himself and smiled, “Yes I’m fine. I’m happy, despite appearances which seem to belie that.”

“Come and look at Luke - your son,” she said saying the name they had chosen. “Luke Bennett-Snape.”

“No, not Snape,” Severus said, “That name has done me no good, I hated my father I don’t want to pass his name on to my children.”

She looked at him in surprise, “He needs something to identify him as yours – what about Luke Bennett-Prince?”

Severus said, “Yes, I like that. My mother would have been pleased.” He reached over and touched the baby’s hand, “Hello Luke Bennett-Prince, welcome to the world.”

Azalea smiled, “He’s got a mop of black hair – that must be from you.”

“He doesn’t seem to have my nose, thank goodness, that’s another thing I wouldn’t want to pass onto my children.”

“Maybe the next one will,” Azalea said as she lightly stroked her baby’s nose. 

The next one? thought Severus. He was rapidly reconsidering the idea of four children, he wasn’t sure he could go through that three more times!


	65. Showing Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets detention. Azalea brings the baby to Hogwarts for a visit.

After the euphoria and trauma of the birth and the arrival of the baby the first couple of weeks back at Azalea’s house with the new baby brought them back to earth with a bump. Sleep was now something that was in short supply and Severus felt guiltily relieved when he was obliged to return to Hogwarts and could sleep in his chambers for hours at a stretch. Azalea had a stream of visitors to see the new baby and many offers of help, but none of them could give her the sleep she really craved. 

The Easter holidays came within three weeks of the baby’s birth and Severus spent all of the holiday at Azalea’s house. He soon learned to look after the baby and regularly got up to do a night feed to allow Azalea to catch up on some sleep. The lack of sleep was making her short tempered and irritable, he had never imagined that looking after a baby could be such relentless work. He did his share of work around the house – cooking, cleaning, washing – all of which were much easier than caring for a very young baby. Winky’s assistance was invaluable but she had her own baby to look after and Azalea did not want her overworked.

One afternoon, Azalea had dozed off, the baby started to cry and Severus picked him up, fed him and changed him but still the baby was grizzling. Severus cradled the baby in his arms, walked around the room gently rocking him and singing lullabies. The baby stopped crying and for the first time ever his son looked at him, eyes focussed and a serious expression on his face as if he was studying every part of his father’s face. Severus faltered in the song. Azalea had woken from her doze and came and stood beside him, “Why did you stop?” she asked, “I was listening to that.”

“He looked at me,” he replied in wonder. 

Azalea peered over at the baby who was still staring at Severus but shifted his focus to look at his mother. She smiled and said, “he’s knows who we are. Babies are very good at recognising faces.” She let out a short burst of laughter as a thought struck her, “What would your students think if they could see you now?” she asked, “I bet they could never imagine Professor Snape changing nappies and singing lullabies.”

“I could never have imagined it myself until I met you. You are a wicked woman, you know,” he said affectionately looking into her green eyes. “You turned up unannounced at Hogwarts, you stared at me across the table and I was lost the moment I made eye contact, no matter how much I tried to deny it at first. You brought laughter and joy into my life, you’ve made me look outside of myself and see that there is more to life than guilt and sorrow. But most of all you have gifted me with your love and now you’ve given me a son.”

“I didn’t do the last bit entirely on my own, you know,” she said light-heartedly.

He smiled lovingly at her and continued as if she hadn’t interrupted, “I promise you Leah, that I will always love and protect you and our children, I will always be there whenever you need me and I will never let you down.” 

“Severus,” she said breathlessly, “what brought that on? I thought I was the one whose hormones and emotions were all over the place.”

“I told you I was going to say soppy things to you until the day I die. This is one of those times.”

“Thank you Severus, and just so we’re absolutely clear, I love you too and I can’t imagine life without you. No other love but yours will ever do.”

The Easter holidays came to an end and Severus had to return to Hogwarts. Before he went he recorded a tape of him singing lullabies for Azalea to play to Luke to help him sleep. She played it far more often than that, listening to Severus’ melodic voice made her miss him less at the times when he wasn’t there.

\--oOo--

Back at Hogwarts life carried on for Snape teaching and getting away to see Azalea whenever he could. One evening he was walking past the boy’s bathroom on the sixth floor when the voice of Moaning Myrtle echoed out of the room shouting, “MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!” Snape tore open the door and was shocked by what he saw. Lying on the floor in a pool of blood was Malfoy with Potter standing over him looking ashen. Snape noticed at once the deep gashes on Malfoy’s chest and face, he pulled out his wand and immediately started to heal the cuts using the spell that Azalea had taught him when he’d been punished by Voldemort using his own invention of the Sectumsempra spell. As he worked on Malfoy’s injuries the similarity between these cuts and the ones Voldemort had given him was obvious. Somehow Potter had managed to recreate the Sectumsempra curse. He took Malfoy to the school hospital and ordered Potter to wait for him in the bathroom. When he returned he asked Potter who had taught him that spell.

Potter stammered a reply “I read it in a library book, I can’t remember the title.”

Snape had spent enough time around students to know when he was being lied to, and he stared into Potter’s eyes seeking to extract the information from his mind. It was too easy, Potter was unable to prevent Snape from picking up an image of a battered copy of Advanced Potion Making book. “Bring me all of your school books – now!” he ordered. Potter came back with all his schoolbooks in his bag and Snape went through them one by one, leaving Advanced Potion Making to the end. He knew at once it wasn’t the book he had seen in Potter’s mind. “Potter,” he said, very quietly, ““I think that you are a liar and a cheat and that you deserve detention with me every Saturday until the end of term. What do you think, Potter?”

“I — I don’t agree, sir,” said Harry.

“Well, we shall see how you feel after your detentions,” said Snape. “Ten o’clock Saturday morning, Potter. My office.” Snape swept out of the bathroom thinking whatever had possessed him to give detention on Saturday mornings – that was one of the few times he could visit Azalea. He had been so angry that Potter was lying to him, of all Potter’s faults lying wasn’t high on the list. The image of old the book he had seen in Potter’s mind coupled with the use of sectumsempra could mean only one thing, Potter had found Snape’s copy of Advanced Potions Making, with all his marginal notes, - the one he had self-importantly labelled “This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince”. Snape thought that book had long since been lost but it did go to show one thing – he should clear out the cupboards more often!

Later that evening he spoke telepathically to Azalea, as they did every day, to say he wouldn’t be able to visit her on Saturday mornings anymore and told her why. She had said it explained Harry’s sudden excellence in Potions and that Severus should be pleased, even when he wasn’t teaching him, Harry was still learning from him.

For Potter’s detention Snape decided to pick up the theme of clearing out cupboards. Filch had given him piles of old box files detailing the misdeeds and punishments of students over the years. Filch wanted the faded or damaged entries re-written to be legible and then put back in alphabetical order. Personally Snape thought the best thing to do with the records would be to burn them, but Filch lacked imagination and often referred to them when looking for suitable punishments. Snape started Potter on the records which covered the time when James Potter was at school, he thought it might make the job more interesting for Potter if he read about his father’s exploits rather than people he’d never heard about. The pair worked in silence and the time passed slowly. 

The morning of the first Saturday detention was the final Quidditch match between Gryffinor and Ravenclaw to decide the school Quidditch championship. Snape consoled himself that he wouldn’t have been able to visit Azalea today anyway, as head of house he would have been expected to attend the match. Snape wasn’t particularly interested in Quidditch and had spent many an uncomfortable hour watching matches, sometimes in appalling weather conditions, when he would far rather have been indoors. Finally the hands of the clock reached twelve thirty and he dismissed Potter. To keep up appearances, Snape attended lunch and found out that Gryffindor had won the Quidditch cup this year; as soon as lunch was over he immediately left to visit Azalea and Luke.

The weeks passed and so did the Saturday morning detentions. Snape regretted telling Filch that Potter would update all the records. Potter seemed to be working ever more slowly and the detentions often lasted well into the afternoon. If Potter didn’t get on with it they would still be having detentions next term. This was eating into his time with Azalea and made him resent Potter even more. 

\--oOo--

When Luke was a little over three months old, Azalea announced she was going to bring him to Hogwarts to show him off. Filius and Charity had both been to Stevenage to see the baby but no one else from Hogwarts had come. 

“How are you going to get him there?” Severus asked her, “He’s still too young to be taken by port key or apparation.”

“Not house elf apparation,” she said. “Winky’s going to carry him. Have you ever apparated with a house elf?” Severus shook his head. “You don’t feel a thing, one minute you’re in one place and the next instant somewhere else, there’s no bone crushing nausea to contend with. Winky said it used to be commonplace for house elves to transport their master’s children but these days house elves don’t look after wizard children as much as they used to and people have forgotten about it.”

“As long as you’re sure no harm will come to him,” agreed Severus.

“Of course it won’t. I wouldn’t dream of doing it otherwise,” she said.

Azalea brought Luke to Hogwarts the way she described and the baby was perfectly happy and unharmed. When she arrived at Hogwarts most of her former colleagues were teaching so she put him into a pram and walked up to the village of Hogsmeade to visit Shona at the Post Office. It was a sunny summer’s day in June and Azalea enjoyed the walk, Luke lay in his pram and she could see him watching the play of the shadows on the hood of the pram and the reflection of the light through the trees. When she reached the village Azalea was shocked at how Hogsmeade had changed, many of the shops had closed and the villagers went about their business almost furtively. Shona and Azalea had a long chat over a cup of tea talking about the changes. After Katie Bell’s experience with the cursed necklace, The Hogwarts students were no longer permitted to go to Hogsmeade and many of the shops had lost trade, Zonko’s Joke Shop had closed and Honeyduke’s remained profitable by a thread. The post office was still running a good trade and the owl service offered was well used. The two businesses which had seen an increase in trade were the two pubs. Shona mentioned that there were aurors permanently posted at Hogsmeade for the protection of the Hogwarts students which reminded Azalea that Tonks was one of them and when she’d finished with Shona she sought out Tonks.

Shona told where Tonks was staying and Azalea knocked on the door of the house, Tonks answered the door and for a second Azalea didn’t recognise her, she was thin and pale and her hair was a mousy brown colour rather than the colourful hues she usually chose. “Leah!” said Tonks and forced a smile, “What a lovely surprise, come in.” Azalea followed her inside, whilst she knew that Tonks had never been particularly house proud the room they went into looked neglected, as if the owner simply couldn’t be bothered. “Sit down,” Tonks said, “just chuck the stuff on the floor, I’ll clear it up later.” Azalea sat down and lifted Luke from the pram. Tonks asked to hold him and Azalea passed him to her. “He’s got such lovely black hair, just like Sirius,” Tonks said gently stroking it.

“Mmm,” Azalea said, non-committedly.

“You’re looking well,” said Tonks, “Motherhood is obviously suiting you.” She fell silent gently rocking the baby and suddenly said, “Do you miss him – Sirius?”

“Yes,” Azalea responded honestly, “but it’s been nearly a year now and life must go on.”

“Do you ever hear from the others? You know, the Order of the Phoenix members?” Tonks asked.

“I’m not a member so I don’t hear too much. I heard that Remus is working underground, so to speak.”

Tonks sprang to attention and asked urgently, “How is he? Is he all right?”

“I met him a month or so ago. I took Luke into work and I passed Remus in the corridor. He was looking a bit peaky if you want my opinion. He apologised for not keeping in touch but said it was too dangerous to send letters.”

“Oh,” said Tonks.

Curiosity got the better of Azalea and she finally asked, “What happened between the two of you? That day we all went for a walk in Epping Forest the two of you seemed to be getting on so well. When you were injured during the fight at the Ministry Remus was with you all the way to the hospital, but now – well you both look awful.”

Tonks sobbed, “He says we shouldn’t be together, he’s too old and too poor for me. Not to mention that he’s a werewolf. But I can’t help it Leah, I love him and I’d take him however he is.”

“Ah Tonks,” said Azalea sympathetically, “some men don’t understand the power of love. He probably thinks he being noble by letting you go, but it’s not like that at all is it?”

“No. I don’t want to be let go,” said Tonks.

When she’d finished at Tonks’ house, Azalea returned to Hogwarts, stopping off at Hagrid’s hut on the way. Hagrid was delighted to see her and the baby. He was surprisingly gentle with the baby, and Luke looked tiny in Hagrid’s giant hands. “You ‘ave t’be careful wi’ babies y’know Leah. I picks up baby animals all th’ time. Some of them is real delicate. But I never ‘urt them.”

“I never thought you would, Hagrid. How are things here at Hogwarts? I feel out of it now I work at St Mungos.”

Hagrid handed the baby back to her and picked up a large mug of tea. “It ain’t like it used t’ be, that’s for sure. Dumbledore’s away a lot, the kids is trapped inside and not allowed out to Hogsmeade. And no one knows what You Know Who is up to. I think you’re better off at St Mungo’s.”

Azalea left Hagrid’s and continued her visit by going to the staff room. The teachers made much of the baby and while he was handed round the staff room Azalea took the opportunity to catch up with Charity.

“How’s the baby sleeping at night time now?” enquired Charity.

“Better than when he was first born. Sometimes I get as much as six hours’ uninterrupted sleep!” Azalea replied wryly. She gave a short laugh and continued, “I remember when I could sleep for twelve hours at a stretch – that’s seems such a long time ago already.”

Charity smiled and said, “Don’t worry it doesn’t last for ever. Before you know it he’ll be a teenager and sleeping all day – you’ll be the one waking him up! Then he’ll grow into a man, and make his own life,” she said wistfully. “Which is as it should be, of course, but enjoy these early days Azalea, don’t wish them away.”

“Charity, if Luke turns out to be half the man that your Julian is, then I will think I’ve done a good job,” Azalea said.

“Thank you Azalea” said Charity with pleasure. “I’ve been thinking that I should write an article in the Daily Prophet about the wizard world accepting the muggle born wizards. It’s like you’ve mentioned before, Azalea, the attempt to keep the wizard bloodlines “pure” is weakening the wizard world, not strengthening it. We need intermarriage to increase the gene pool.”

“I know Charity, but is it wise to put your head above the parapet like that? Voldemort can be ruthless to people who have a different view to his.”

“Isn’t there a muggle saying about how the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing? I’ve been teaching wizards about muggles for years in the hope of instilling tolerance and I was married to a muggle. I would dishonour his memory if I kept silent.”

Luke had started to cry and he was brought to Azalea who fed him, changed him and put him back in his pram where he soon fell asleep. “I think I’ll stop by and see Dumbledore before I go home,” she said to Charity and set off for his office. Like everywhere in Hogwarts the route entailed many sets of staircases and Azalea was glad she knew the levitation spell to get the pram up and down them. She was nearly at the headmaster’s office when she met Sybill Trelawney. As Azalea drew closer she could see Sybill was walking with concentrated precision and when she drew up next to her she was hit by a strong smell of cooking sherry. Severus had mentioned that Sybill seemed to have started on a downwards slide since Umbridge had sacked her and the centaur Firenze had been appointed to take her place. As a result of working with wizards, Firenze had been exiled from the centaur herd and he now job-shared with Professor Trelawney. Sybill considered this to be an outrage and consoled herself by drinking to excess. Azalea greeted Sybill cordially. Sybill peered at her through her thick lensed glasses which made her eyes look like large owl’s eyes, she drew herself up. “Hello Azalea,” she said and noticing the pram she looked inside, “Ah so this is your baby. Let me tell you his future,” she offered.

“Perhaps later,” said Azalea, “I’m just going to see the headmaster.”

“He is otherwise occupied,” replied Sybill. “Harry Potter has just gone in to see him. Apparently, the headmaster specifically asked for him,” she said a little bitterly, “he has little time to hear my predictions.”

“Oh well, in that case I won’t bother them,” said Azalea.

“Did you know,” Sybill said, eager to talk now that there was someone to listen. “That my great-great-grandmother was the famous seer Cassandra Trelawney? Seeing runs in our family.”

“I’ve heard that the gift runs strongest down the female line,” observed Azalea casually.

At once Azalea realised she’d said the wrong thing. Sybill’s face turned red with anger. “Even you doubt me,” she hissed and turned to walk away, as she did so she tripped over one of her trailing shawls and fell against the wall. 

“Are you all right?” Azalea asked and went to her assistance.

“I’m fine,” said Sybill straightening up and walking in the opposite direction. As she walked down the corridor she felt something sharp rubbing against her skin. She reached inside her shawls and pulled out one of items hanging round her neck. It was something which her great aunt Pythia had given to her many years ago and told her to guard it well for one day Sybill would meet the person it protected and when she did she was to be sure to guard her too. It was a leather cord on which a blue ampoule should hang but all that was there now were shards of blue glass in which were entangled some strands of soft brown hair, so delicate they must have come from a baby.

As the pieces of glass fell from Sybill’s hands Azalea felt a chill run down her spine as if someone had walked over her grave. 

Many miles away in Malfoy Manor, Voldemort was walking in the grounds with Nagini sliding along beside him. The snake stopped abruptly, tensed and swung her head from side to side tasting the air as if seeking the source of a new danger. Voldemort put his hand on the snake’s head saying, “You felt it too my pet, but do not fear, once we’ve dealt with Potter, all other threats will be as nothing.”


	66. Astonomy Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape is obliged to fulfill his promise to Dumbledore.

Azalea said goodbye to Sybill and headed to Severus’ office. He had stayed away whilst she had been visiting Hogwarts today to make it easier for her and to avoid the need for them to pretend indifference whilst in public. She knocked on the door and heard him say “enter” in his usual brusque fashion. She pushed open the door and went in backwards pulling the pram in behind her. When he saw who it was he jumped up from his chair and held open the door, once she was inside he shut the door. 

“I’ve finished showing him off now,” said Azalea, “and I wanted some family time before I go home.”

“Let’s go into my private sitting room,” said Severus, “in case I get other callers. I can hear from there if any one knocks on my office door.” They did as he suggested and curled up together on the sofa drinking tea and talking while Luke continued to sleep in his pram. Azalea dozed off leaning against Severus, he moved her into a more comfortable position, put his arm around her and let her sleep, feeling the gentle breeze of her breath against his neck and the soft tickle of her hair on his cheek. He sat back on the sofa and closed his eyes, this was a perfect moment, all was quiet, the people he loved most in the world were with him and he wanted life to stay like this for ever.

After a while the baby woke up, Azalea responded instantly to his sound and woke up herself. She fed him and changed him, he wasn’t sleepy afterwards and Severus took him from her, lay him on his lap and played with him, letting Luke’s tiny hands grasp his fingers and talking to him in the gentle babyish way that parents talk to babies. Azalea watched then fondly and remarked, “It’s a shame we don’t remember being a baby. It must be wonderful having someone who feeds you, dresses you, keeps you clean, entertains you, responds to your every need and loves you unconditionally.” 

A loud knocking came from the door to Severus’ office, “Who’s that at this time of night?” he asked. He handed Luke over to Azalea and went into his office carefully closing the door to his private rooms before he opened the door of the office. To his surprise Filius was at the door in a state of agitation. “Filius! Whatever is wrong? Come in,” he said.

Filius came in and spoke urgently, “We need you Severus. Minerva asked me to get you, Death Eaters have managed to break into the school, the sign of the Dark Mark is over the Astronomy Tower.”

“Where is the headmaster? Have you alerted him?” Snape asked and fear filled his body. Had Malfoy succeeded after all?

“He’s gone out for a few hours but told us we were to patrol the corridors. We also called in extra help – Bill Weasley, Lupin and Tonks - are here too.”

Snape turned to glance at the door of his private quarters thinking of the precious people that were inside, they needed to be protected at all costs. He could not allow the Death Eaters free run of Hogwarts no matter what he had to do. He returned his attention Filius, he was a particular friend of Azalea’s and whatever happened tonight he could make sure Filius was not involved. “Thank you for letting me know Filius, I shall come straight away.” Before Filius responded Snape struck him with a stupefying spell and Filius’s inert body slumped to the ground.

Severus went back inside his quarters. One look of his face was enough to alert Azalea to the fact that something was wrong. “What’s happened, Severus?” she asked anxiously standing up from the sofa and holding the baby close to her.

“Death Eaters have gained access to Hogwarts. I have to help,” he told her.

“Of course you have,” she agreed. “I’ll get Winky to keep an eye on Luke and I’ll come too.”

“NO!” he said loudly, “Stay here, keep out of the way! I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”

Seeing the anguished look on Severus’ face, Azalea decided not to argue with him and agreed to stay where she was. He stepped closer to her, held her by her shoulders and looked into her eyes, “Leah,” he said in a husky voice, “Do you love me?”

“You know I do, Severus” she replied puzzled as to his sudden need for her to affirm her love and added, “Unconditionally.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Whatever happens tonight, whatever you hear about me, remember things are not always as they seem.”

“Severus, you’re frightening me. What are you worried about, what might happen?”

“I cannot say, it may not come to pass. I need to go now but I love you, never forget that.” He kissed her hard on the lips stopping any more words she may have wanted to say. She responded trying to put all the love she felt into that kiss. He reluctantly pulled away and studied the image of her standing in front him - his beautiful wife holding their baby in her arms; he wanted to burn that picture into his mind to sustain him through the days that were to come. He looked for a few long seconds and swept out of the room closing the door behind him. 

Outside his office he saw Grainger and Lovegood and he got the impression they had been lurking there for a while. Here were two more people he could protect tonight. “Professor Flitwick has collapsed in my office,” he said, “go in and see to him. I need to go and attend to uninvited guests.” The girls obeyed his request and he hoped their presence would stop Azalea trying to leave his private rooms and keep her safe for a little longer.

As he made his way up to the Astronomy Tower he wondered why Dumbledore had not asked him to patrol that night. The headmaster knew Azalea was visiting today, perhaps he had thought to let Snape spend some time with her, Dumbledore was a romantic at heart and a great believer in love. Snape walked quickly but reluctantly knowing that every step took him nearer to a situation he didn’t want to face. The sign of the Dark Mark, a blazing green skull with a serpent tongue, hung above the tower like a beacon drawing him ever closer to the end. The spiral stairs up to top of the tower were dimly lit and were uneven underfoot but he suffered no mishap to prevent him reaching the top. At the door to the tower roof he paused, every instinct, every thought urging him to turn around and not go through that door. He reached out and pushed it open. 

The scene that met him was the one he had been hoping against hope he wouldn’t see. Dumbledore was slumped against the parapet wall; his hand empty of his wand. Snape glanced around to locate Dumbledore’s wand but couldn’t see it and guessed it had gone over the parapet. Malfoy was standing opposite Dumbledore pointing his wand at the headmaster’s heart, a slight tremble in the wand betraying Malfoy’s state of mind. Three Death Eaters stood behind Malfoy urging him to kill Dumbledore. Bathed in the eerie green light from the sign of the Dark Mark Snape recognised them as Amycus and Alecto, the Carrow siblings and the brutal faced Yaxley, nearby stood Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf. Snape grimaced in distaste; were these the “better helpers than Snape” that Malfoy had boasted about? Of all the Death Eaters he could have chosen for assistance these were the worst. The Carrows were renowned for their sadistic enjoyment in inflicting pain and Greyback was the embodiment of the evil werewolf that frightens muggles and wizards alike. Yaxley was nothing but a thug with a hatred of the muggle born that rivalled Voldemort’s.

Amycus started to say something but all Snape heard was Dumbledore softly saying his name, the anguish clear, “Severus…”

Snape walked forward and pushed Malfoy out of the way. Snape gazed at Dumbledore, they were both talented Occlumens and Legilimens, Snape knew this was the last chance he would have to speak to Dumbledore. Dumbledore understood what Snape was doing and didn’t try to stop him from accessing his mind. Snape saw fear and pain in the headmaster’s mind, he saw resignation and death; he saw truth. Dumbledore saw grief etched into Snape’s face and read extreme reluctance to do as he had promised.

“Severus … please …” he whispered in encouragement.

Dumbledore read clearly the thoughts going through Snape’s mind - ^^It’s been an honour to know you, Albus. Farewell my friend.^^ 

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. 

“Avada Kedavra!”

A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape’s wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest.

Dumbledore toppled and fell over the parapet wall. To Snape everything happened in slow motion and for a second that stretched out like elastic Snape heard no sound, the world fell silent; Dumbledore didn’t scream or shout as he fell. A dull thud cut through the silence when his body hit the ground. Snape was uncomfortably reminded of when Azalea had fallen from the balcony but this time there would be no miraculous cushioning of the fall, no long stay in St Mungo’s until something reached his inner mind and drew him back into the world. The end had come for Dumbledore, in the way he had requested, a quick humane death to save him endless pain and horror, but for Snape the pain and horror had only just begun. Azalea’s words on the day Luke was born echoed in his mind, “Everyone asks too much of you, Severus.” 

He snapped back to rationality, this was not the time to indulge in self-pity. He rapidly considered his options. In addition to himself and Malfoy, there were four Death Eaters on the tower - any one of them could have killed Dumbledore. He should say he arrived too late to stop them, take Draco and chase the Death Eaters away thus maintaining his cover in Hogwarts. He spun around quickly to start issuing orders but as he did so something by the door out of the tower caught his eye. The lines of the bricks on the tower wall were not quite straight, as if he was seeing them slightly distorted through a glass, it might just be a trick of the light, the green of the Dark Mark casting eerie shadows. He remembered Azalea telling him that Dumbledore had been closeted with Potter when she went to show him Luke, and Snape was almost overcome with sadness at the realisation that Albus would never see Luke. He quickly brought himself back to the matter of the anomaly of the bricks and the answer struck him - Potter had a cloak of invisibility! Such a cloak could not disguise completely the distortions of light shining through it and now that he knew what he was looking at Snape could make out a boy-sized shape leaning immobile against the wall of the tower. With a sinking heart Snape guessed that Potter had been standing there all the time and had witnessed what had happened. He knew there were now no options but one. 

Grabbing Malfoy by the neck of his robes he pulled him through the door saying, “Out of here, quickly!” He ran down the spiral staircase, trusting his feet to be sure to find the steps without stumbling. He could hear Malfoy’s ragged breath behind him and the sound of the other Death Eaters following close behind. At the bottom of the stairs he threw open the door and ran out into the open corridor. The corridor was full of dust, and he saw that the ceiling had fallen in. He was immediately met by the sight of Minerva, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Tonks, Lupin and Longbottom engaged in a fight with other Death Eaters. On the floor he could make out the shape of two inert bodies but he had no time to investigate who they were. He skirted around them, treading in a sticky substance he knew must be blood, and kept on running, Malfoy close in his wake. The Carrows and Fenrir ran from the tower and emerged through the dust like demons in the mist, running hot on the heels of Snape and Malfoy. The Hogwarts defenders let Snape and Malfoy pass unchallenged and turned to fight the Death Eaters behind them. Leaving the two groups to their fight Snape ran along the corridor, his shoes now slippery with the blood he had trodden in. He came to a junction and knew his best means of escape was to reach the school boundary and apparate. 

He ran down the corridor leading towards the front door. By now the commotion had disturbed the students and they were starting to come into the corridors. “Back to your rooms!” he shouted as he ran past but had no time to see if they obeyed him. He ran into the entrance lobby – the large oak doors were shut tight. He flung a curse at them but it ricocheted and hit the Gryfindor hour glass shattering the glass and spraying red rubies over the floor like globs of blood. Ignoring the mess, Snape fired a second spell at the door and this time it blasted open, splintering the wood and bending the hinges. He ran through them and out into the air. Taking in deep lungfuls of the fresh night air he headed towards the gate that marked the boundary of Hogwarts and beyond which they could safely apparate. Hagrid came lumbering out of his house, Snape ignored him but the Death Eaters who were still following Snape and Malfoy’s flight from the building started to a launch spells and curses at the half-giant but they had little effect on him.

Snape heard the sound of Potter’s voice shouting “Stupefy!” but his aim was poor and the spell missed and sailed past Snape’s head.

Snape shouted “Run Draco!” and turned to face Potter. Potter tried to use the Crucio curse on him but Snape easily parried it. In the background they both heard Hagrid’s house burst into flames as the Death Eaters who were fighting Hagrid saw the futility of their actions and distracted him by destroying his house. In the red glow of the fire, Snape and Potter faced one another, Potter tried to curse him again but once more Snape parried it, “No unforgiveable curses from you, Potter,” he said. Potter tried again and once more Snape parried the spell with a lazy action. A third time Potter tried but again it was too easy. The boy was too emotional, his intentions wide open - he wouldn’t last for two seconds against Voldemort. “Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!” Snape shouted at him, willing him to take note and learn. 

One of the Death Eaters appeared behind Potter and cursed him, the boy fell like a stone and lay writhing in agony on the ground. This was not the time for Potter to die and it wasn’t to be at the hands of a mere Death Eater, “Have you forgotten our orders? Potter belongs to the Dark Lord — we are to leave him!” Snape commanded. The Death Eaters heeded his words and they all ran towards the gate and escape, Snape turned to follow them but Potter was still not finished. Snape heard him say “Sectum…” but before he could finish Snape repelled the curse. Anger was building up inside him now - he had just saved the boy; why didn’t he give up? Now Potter was trying a non-verbal spell and Snape picked up the incantation “Levi..” from Potters poorly shielded mind. 

“No Potter” he shouted angrily, “You dare to use my own spells against me? It was I who invented them — I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you’d turn my inventions on me, like your father, would you? I don’t think so … no!” Potter dived for his wand but Snape shot a hex at it and if flew out of sight. 

“Kill me then you coward!” Potter yelled.

“DON’T CALL ME COWARD!” Snape screamed in rage and he completely lost control, goaded beyond endurance. He had just killed his best friend and mentor; he had abandoned his wife and child to who knows what danger; he had to join forces with a man whose beliefs he despised who killed his first love and would kill his second love in a second if he knew her secrets - and he did it all to protect this boy - who he didn’t even like much - and who had the audacity to use his own spells against him and to call him a coward! Blinded by his fury and seeing only red he raised his wand about to curse Potter into oblivion when something gold flew in front of his face and razor sharp talons clawed at the air in front of him but avoided scratching or injuring him. 

He reined in his temper, sickeningly aware of how close he’d just come to losing everything he’d worked and suffered for over the past 15 years. He had allowed himself to give in to a taunt spoken in the heat of the moment and without knowledge of the facts. He spun around on his heels and rushed over to Malfoy, whose blond hair reflected the reds and oranges of the fire, and who was frantically searching for something on the ground. Malfoy reached out and Snape saw him pick up his wand. “Run, quickly, we need to get of here now!” he ordered. The pair raced through the gate of Hogwarts, the cracking sound of apparation burst in the air and they were gone. A hippogriff circled the gates as Harry watched in frustration knowing Snape had escaped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the book it is not made clear if Snape knew Harry was on the tower when Dumbledore was killed although it was obvious in the film. I have assumed that Snape must have known Harry was there otherwise he would have had no reason to run away.


	67. His Own Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of the previous chapter largely from Azalea's point of view.

Despite Azalea having told Severus she would stay where she was and keep out of the way, she couldn’t do it. She had to know what was going on and help if she could. The same did not apply to Luke – he had to be kept safe. She went to open the door from Severus’ private rooms into his office but stopped when she heard voices on the other side. She couldn’t leave by that route - how could she ever explain her presence in Severus’ living quarters? She retreated into the bedroom, which was furthest from the office, and called for Winky.

The house elf appeared in an instant. “Winky,” Azalea said, “Death Eaters have got into Hogwarts, I need to help but I want you to take Luke, look after him and make sure he’s kept safe.”

Winky nodded. “Winky take him to the kitchen, Benny there too and all house elves. We protect babies.”

“Thank you, Winky,” said Azalea. She thought for a moment then said, “Winky, if things turn bad and you can’t find me would you take Luke to Lucy’s house?”

Winky said, “Yes, my lady. Winky bring Benny to Mistress Lucy too?”

“Of course,” agreed Azalea. She put Luke in his pram and packed all the paraphernalia that accompanies young babies on a day trip into it as well. Winky took hold of the pram handle and disapparated out of the room. Seconds later Azalea left the room in the same manner. 

She didn’t know in which direction Severus had gone after he had left her so she landed in the grounds and looked around. She could see the Dark Mark glowing luminously over the Astronomy tower and guessed that was where the Death Eaters would be found. She apparated to the corridor near the tower, she had purposefully avoided landing directly on the tower not knowing what she might find there. In the corridor she saw several members of the Order of the Phoenix battling some strangers who she assumed were Death Eaters but there was no sign of Severus. She decided it would be best if she hid herself. She had recently learned to upgrade her concealment charm into a disillusionment charm which she could cast well enough to make herself completely invisible to all but the keenest eye.

She scooted past the fight with the intention of ascending the stairs to the tower but before she reached the door she saw two bodies lying on the floor. Her healer training took over and she moved silently to them, the first one she looked at was a Death Eater, he had a large burn on his chest where he had been hit by a killing curse. There was nothing Azalea could do for him – he was already dead. She crept over the next victim, he was lying in a pool of blood; she moved her position to study the damage. At first she didn’t recognise who it was but his long ponytail identified him for her. It was Bill Weasley, his handsome face ripped to shreds as if by the claws of a wild animal. Azalea checked his pulse, he was still alive! She quickly studied the cuts, she could see the trace of something like dark magic in it, but he had not been cursed, this was an injury delivered physically not by magic. Recognition dawned on her, it was the mark and colour of a werewolf attack and such a bite would change a victim. At St Mungos she had been working with some experienced Healers on a counter spell for werewolf attacks, it was still in the early stages of development and there had been some limited success but only if the victim was attended to as soon as they were attacked. It didn’t matter that Bill wasn’t bitten under a full moon he would still turn, the difference being that the effect was quicker when the moon was up. Perhaps it wasn’t too late for Bill, she could see the werewolf venom had already leeched into his body, but she had no time to take him to St Mungos for treatment, even a few minutes delay decreased his chances of surviving. She knew the counter spell, it was worth a try and Bill had nothing to lose, even if he died today it was preferable to living life as a werewolf. It was rare for werewolves to try to assimilate into human and wizard society in the way that Lupin had, especially when they were bitten as an adult. Azalea cleared her mind, she took her wand in one hand and placed the other hand on Bill’s injured face and softly chanted the counter spell. As she did so she focused her mind on the werewolf venom forcing it to unbind from Bill’s genetic material, slowly she began to see the venom breakup and be ingested by the body’s own defence system. Once unbound the venom lost its potency and could not re-infect the body. Bill’s breathing, which had become laboured whilst she was working, eased and became more normal. She finished the incantation satisfied that the venom would not now transform him. She turned her attention to his cuts, she stopped the bleeding and was about to close up the cuts when she heard a commotion from behind her. 

She looked up, the door to the staircase burst open and Severus ran though it closely followed by Draco Malfoy; hot on their heels were four Death Eaters one of whom clearly shunned his full human form and who bore all the hallmarks of a werewolf. Azalea felt relieved that it had not been Lupin who had inflicted these injuries on Bill. Azalea watched Severus and Malfoy run past the Hogwart’s defenders who let them through before closing ranks again to fire spells and curses at the Death Eaters pursuing Snape and Malfoy. Azalea stopped her treatment of Bill, he would survive now; the cuts on his face could be healed later when she had more time but for now her priority was Severus. Still concealed by her disillusionment charm she waited for a gap in the fighting so she could pass through unharmed. There was no point in apparating to intercept Severus because she didn’t know where he was going. She would have to follow him on foot. Harry came running out of the tower and joined in the fight. As soon as he saw Harry, the werewolf launched himself at him giving Harry had no chance to raise his wand. Azalea threw a body bind curse at the werewolf before he could inflict a bite and the wolf landed heavily on top of Harry. She used a levitation spell to help Harry throw the motionless body aside. Harry leapt up and went to the aid of Ginny. Azalea threw in a few more spells against the Death Eaters and in the confusion of the fighting nobody noticed spells being fired from thin air.

The Death Eaters gave up the fight and fled off down the corridor with Harry chasing after them. Azalea followed running as fast as she could, but healing Bill had taken some of her strength and energy and she could not keep up. She followed the trail to the main door which had been blown almost off its hinges and she ran outside. Ahead of her she could see figures running towards the gate out of Hogwarts. Clearly the Death Eaters were going to apparate away. They may take Severus with them and she had to get to him first. She stood outside panting and clutching her side where she had a severe stitch. She started to walk forwards as fast as she could when she heard a loud bang, followed by a bright orange light, she looked in the direction of the sound and saw Hagrid’s house had burst into flames, she saw Hagrid’s huge frame silhouetted against the flames and breathed a sigh of relief that he had not been inside. 

One of the orange flames appeared to detach itself and rise into the air like a leaf on the autumn wind. She looked again – it was no flame, it was Buckbeak, Sirius’s griffin who had lived in the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid since Sirius had died. Azalea shouted “Buckbeak! To me!” The griffin heard her call and responded to her summons. He flew over to her like a giant eagle and landed by her feet, knowing where she was despite the disillusionment charm she was wearing. He bent his front legs and she scrambled onto his back. With a few beats of his wings he covered the distance to where Severus had run. Azalea, still invisible, held Buckbeak aloft and surveyed the scene beneath her.

Harry and Severus appeared to be fighting, or at least Harry was firing off spells and Severus was casually flicking them aside. Azalea saw Draco Malfoy raise his wand and point it towards Harry. Whatever lesson Severus was trying to teach Harry, Azalea did not want Malfoy to interfere. She aimed a disarming spell in Malfoy’s direction and his wand flew out of his hand and landed somewhere on the grass. He crouched down on the grass and tried to find it in the darkness. Azalea ignored him and returned her attention to Severus and Harry. She heard Severus shout in rage “DON’T CALL ME COWARD!” He lost control in a way she’d never seen before, it reminded her of the time she had also lost control when she took the frozen soul potion. The shields so carefully constructed to hide his thoughts fell away and his mind and intentions were completely open to her. As he raised his wand and aimed it at Harry she guided Buckbeak to intercept Severus, to stop him from making a huge mistake he would regret for the rest of his life. The griffin raked at the air in front of his face with its razor sharp claws but didn’t touch him. At once Severus came to his senses, his mental shields slammed back down, he ran over to Malfoy and ordered him to leave at once. Malfoy had just found his wand and the pair of them ran through the gate and disapparated as soon as they reached the other side. She flew Buckbeak to the gate looking desperately for a clue as to where they might have gone. Buckbeak howled after them and his strident screams reflected her distress. 

Azalea remained on Buckbeak’s back for a few minutes longer, looking at the last place she had seen Severus as if expecting him to re-appear at any minute. She wanted to know what had happened but didn’t want to ask him in case he fobbed her off with half-truths and excuses. The sound of water and the hissing of fire being extinguished diverted her from her reverie, Harry and Hagrid were putting out the fire of Hagrid’s house. She landed Buckbeak and slid from his back, whispering her thanks for his help. He flew away back into the depths of the Forbidden Forest. 

Once the fire was out Harry and Hagrid began to walk back to the castle. Azalea followed them within earshot but maintained her invisibility, she didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment, all she wanted was her husband back safely and to see her baby. Hagrid asked Harry what had happened. Harry replied, “Snape killed … Dumbledore.” Azalea’s heart froze inside her, she must have misheard. 

Hagrid clearly thought so too. “Snape kill Dumbledore — don’ be stupid, Harry. Wha’s made yeh say tha’?”

“I saw it happen.”

“Yeh couldn’ have.”

“I saw it, Hagrid.”

Azalea stopped in her tracks, Harry had his failings but lying was not one of them. It must be true, or at least Harry must think it’s true. She doubled up as if in pain and fell to her knees calling out to her husband in anguish, ^^Severus! What have you done?^^

Severus was walking up the path at Malfoy Manor when he heard her cry. Ahead of him the Death Eaters who had escaped with him were whooping and celebrating their successful mission. Malfoy was a few steps in front of Snape walking with his head down, still in shock about what he had caused to happen and for the deaths he had witnessed. Severus had no appetite for celebrating and the last thing he needed was Azalea’s censure, he would explain the circumstances to her later when he had more time. He stopped walking and turned to face the fountain, where once fairies had danced and glittered in its spray. ^^News travels fast.^^ he replied.

^^Ahh please Severus, tell me it’s not true. Tell me you didn’t kill him and I’ll believe you.^^

^^Remember my words – things are not always as they seem.^^

^^That’s no answer, Severus.^^

^^Please trust me, Leah. Without your trust and belief in me I don’t think I can carry on, you are all that keeps me strong, my darling. Don’t desert me now.^^

There was a long agonising pause before she replied, ^^I trust you Severus, unconditionally. I won’t desert you, ever.^^ She cut the connection and he continued his lonely journey up to the Manor to accept the praise and congratulation for the deed he would have given his own life not to have committed.

Azalea had continued to walk to the castle following the route Harry and Hagrid had taken. Although Severus had not admitted to killing Dumbledore she knew what Harry had witnessed was true. No one but her, Severus and Dumbledore had known that the headmaster was dying. Dumbledore had never taken her up on her offer for palliative care. She hoped it was because the pain was manageable rather than macho pride. She guessed he had asked Severus to kill him before the pain became unbearable. If that was the case, then all Severus was guilty of was assisted suicide, a mercy killing. As a healer that went against all her training and beliefs but she couldn’t force someone to accept medication if they didn’t want it. Dumbledore trod his own path and it was too late for her to change it now. 

At the base of the tallest tower of the school a crowd of people had assembled, a path opened for Harry and Hagrid, with Azalea following invisibly behind. Lying spread-eagled on the floor was Dumbledore, a trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth. The stain of the killing curse was scorched upon his robes and Azalea felt tears prick in the corner of her eyes, tears for the death of the headmaster and for the fate of the man who had killed him. She saw Harry pick something up from the floor, she looked at his over his shoulder and saw he was holding a locket. He opened it up and inside was a scrap paper bearing the words “To the Dark Lord, I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B.” Azalea wondered what a Horcrux was and who owned the initials R.A.B.

Ginny came and took Harry by the hand telling him they needed to go the hospital wing. Azalea remembered that Bill was injured, she would be needed in the hospital but first she had to hold her son and pray for the life and the soul of her husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a bit longer between updates than I normally do and I won't be able to update again for about a week.


	68. Farewell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brings to an end the events in HBP. Next chapter follows DH.

Azalea went to the kitchen to find Winky and Luke. Her baby was sleeping peacefully in his pram with Benny curled up in a nest of blankets on the floor next to him. Winky was working quietly nearby helping with the preparation for the next day’s meals. Azalea didn’t want to wake the babies, they would sleep for a few more hours, which was more than she would. Tomorrow she would be exhausted from lack of sleep as would Winky, she may have to ask Lucy to watch over the children for a couple of hours whilst she slept. 

“Winky,” she said, “I’m needed in the hospital, some people have been injured. I’ll take Luke with me.”

“Winky come too,” replied the house elf. She picked up Benny and laid him, still sleeping, in the pram next to Luke. She took hold of the pram handle and Azalea’s hand and apparated them all to the hospital. They entered quietly and Azalea took in the scene. Neville Longbottom was lying in a bed near the door, and gathered around a bed at the far end of the ward were Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Tonks and Remus. She went first to check on Neville, he had been sedated and was sleeping normally. She saw the bruising to his face and body and decided sleep would be the best thing for him. Leaving him to rest she walked down the ward to the group at the far end. Lying on the bed was Bill. Madam Pomfrey was leaning over him and dabbing at the gashes on his face with a harsh smelling green ointment; as she did so she was saying, “I’ve tried everything I know, but there is no cure for werewolf bites.”

No! Azalea thought in shock. Not that ointment! It wasn’t used at St Mungo’s any longer for werewolf bites, the healers had noticed it wasn’t effective in the majority of cases, and sometimes the wound would never heal properly. She pushed her way to the front but it was too late, the damage was already done. She should have stayed by Bill and finished the healing. There was a good chance that Bill would always bear the scars. She looked at Madam Pomfrey, the concern for her patient clear on her face. It would do no one any good to tell them about the error now. Madam Pomfrey was inexperienced in dealing with injuries relating to dark curses, most of her work was sorting out beginner’s spells gone wrong and injuries from the Quidditch field. How could Azalea blame her for out of date knowledge? – The problem with the green ointment had only recently been discovered, it was likely that most healers outside of St Mungos were unaware. Luckily Azalea had been able to prevent Bill from becoming a true werewolf, but with the failure to complete the healing he may bear some wolf characteristics.

Azalea tuned in to the conversation that was going on around her, Harry was describing what he had witnessed on the Astronomy tower – how Severus had used the Avada Kedavra on Dumbledore. The group fell silent in shock and a sound filled the silence. Somewhere out in the darkness, a phoenix was singing a stricken lament of terrible beauty. The song touched her grief, for Dumbledore and for Severus, and as she listened the pain eased just a little. Fawkes, thought Azalea, singing a song of mourning for Dumbledore. The bond between a wizard and his familiar was often strong; during the fight at the Ministry she had seen Fawkes give one of his lives to save Dumbledore. Now the phoenix was another lost creature separated from his partner in life – just like she was.

The echoes of the song faded and Professor McGonagall came into the ward saying that Molly and Arthur were on their way. She asked Harry what had happened and once more Azalea listened to the condemnation of the man she loved; the speculation about his motives and shock that Dumbledore had been so completely taken in by a traitor. “Things are not always as they seem,” she whispered but no one except Winky heard her.

The door of the hospital burst open. Molly, Arthur and Fleur, Bill’s beautiful fiancée, entered and rushed over the Bill’s bedside. Molly looked down at her son’s mutilated face, and her tears began in earnest. “He was so handsome,” she sobbed, “and he was going to be married.”

“And what do you mean by zat?” said Fleur suddenly and loudly. “What do you mean, ‘’e was going to be married?’ It would take more zan a werewolf to stop Bill loving me!”

“Well, yes, I’m sure,” said Molly, “but I thought perhaps — given how — how he —”

“You thought I would not weesh to marry ‘im?” said Fleur, her nostrils flaring. “What do I care how ‘e looks? I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk! All these scars show is zat my husband is brave!”

“You see!” said a strained voice. Tonks was glaring at Lupin. “She still wants to marry him, even though he’s been bitten! She doesn’t care!”

“It’s different,” said Lupin, barely moving his lips and looking suddenly tense. “Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely —”

“But I don’t care either, I don’t care!” said Tonks, seizing the front of Lupin’s robes and shaking them. “I’ve told you a million times. …”

“And I’ve told you a million times,” said Lupin, refusing to meet her eyes, staring at the floor, “that I am too old for you, too poor … too dangerous. …This is … not the moment to discuss it.”

Azalea interjected, “Yes, Remus, this is the time to discuss it. Tonks loves you and you love her. Age and poverty are no barrier to love. As for the wolf in you - it has been there for so long it is part of you. It gives you superior eyesight, better hearing, improved sense of smell and quicker reflexes.” 

Remus realised with a jolt that what she said was true. The wolf had been part of him for most of his life and he took his senses for granted having long forgotten how unaffected humans sensed the world. He had seen and heard something at Bill’s side during the fight but he’d had no time to investigate. The answer suddenly came to him – it had been Azalea with Bill – it was her who had prevented the werewolf venom from affecting him! The first thing he had noticed on arrival at the hospital was that Bill was never going to turn, he had said something to the others about Bill not becoming a full werewolf because he was not bitten under a full moon but he knew it wasn’t true, the phases of the moon didn’t matter. Hope sprang to his mind! If Azalea could do that for Bill maybe… “Leah,” he said quietly and glancing at Bill, “Could you help me to remove the wolf?”

Azalea followed his eye movement and knew what he was asking. “No, I’m sorry but that’s impossible, the wolf has been part of you for too long. Even if I could take the wolf away, you would be a shadow of the man you are today. You would not be the man that Tonks loves. Keep taking the wolfsbane potion and accept the love that you have found. You can’t know what will happen in the future, or how long we all have left in the dark days ahead. The muggles have a saying that there is someone for everyone, be happy that you have found each other, commit to each other and stay together for as long as life lets you.” Azalea shot a look to her son when she said the last words. 

Winky stepped forwards holding out her hand towards Azalea and said, “Winky will commit to my lady’s family. Winky will make the vow.”

Azalea stared at her in horror, “No, Winky. I won’t let you do that. You are a free elf now, you should stay that way.”

“Free elf can choose what she wants,” said Winky logically. “Winky promised she would you keep you safe.”

“You can keep me safe without a Vow of Allegiance, Winky,” said Azalea. 

“What’s a Vow of Allegiance?” Ron whispered in the background.

“It’s when a house elf is bound to the service of a wizard family or institution.” Hermione replied outraged. “You saw what happened to Dobby when he tried to go against the wishes of the Malfoys.”

Azalea continued, “I will protect you and keep you and Benny safe. I trust you to keep my secrets. I don’t need a vow.”

“The Vow keeps Winky safe from other wizards. They can’t make Winky break her vow.”

“Winky, I would rather you told my secrets than be killed protecting them,” said Azalea, “I won’t do it.”

Winky’s big eyes filled with tears and she stammered, “But Winky promised Master S….”

“All right!” shouted Azalea overriding Winky’s voice and contradicting what she had just asserted about the value of her secrets. “I’ll do it. Winky, you know who my family is and what they may become. Are you sure?”

Winky smiled, “Yes and Winky will be on the winning side.”

Azalea addressed the others in the room who had been listening to the exchange, “Who will be our Bonder?”

Minerva stepped forward, “I have knowledge of the spell,” she said and she summoned a parchment containing the incantation and methodology. Azalea knelt on the floor to be at Winky’s height and they clasped hands. Minerva quickly read the document and then said, “Repeat after me:- Your house is my house, your family is my family, where you go I will go. I will support and defend you, I will not betray you either by act or omission. I will protect you and yours, for as long as I shall live.”

Azalea and Winky repeated the words in unison, Minerva cast the spell and a bright yellow stream of light came from it and twisted around their hands like a beam of sunlight and faded away. Azalea looked at her arm and at Winky’s - they both now had the glow of enchantment visible only to her and which stayed with them for the rest of their lives.

The doors to the hospital ward opened again and Hagrid came in to say he had moved Dumbledore and the students were now back in their rooms. Professor McGonagall instructed him to assemble the heads of houses in her office, Slughorn would have to replace Snape and she departed with Harry and told the others in the hospital to leave when they were ready.

Azalea and Winky left the room shortly after Harry. They walked down the corridors heading for the main exit. “I’d like to pay my respects to Dumbledore before we go,” Azalea said to Winky. “I wonder where Hagrid has put him?” Winky popped away and returned a few minutes later and directed her to the small room off the Great Hall where the Triwizard Champions had gone after their names had come from the flames. It seemed such a long time ago now to Azalea, how her life had changed in just three short years since then. The room was softly lit with candles. Dumbledore had been laid on a table in the centre of the room. His robes had been straightened out and the blood and dust washed from his face, Azalea suspected the house elves had done that. His arms were placed across his body, his withered arm hidden by the sleeve of his robe. Azalea was no longer a stranger to death, working as she did in a hospital, but it was difficult to see a friend in death and she choked on her own tears. 

“Oh Albus,” she said brokenly, “how could you leave us like this? How could you have forced your own death in the way that you did, condemning an innocent man? You’ve left us floundering and leaderless, Harry is distraught. Whatever fell from your pocket tonight leaves more questions and no answers.” She reached across him to hold his good hand in a final gesture of farewell. Resting under his hand was his wand, for no reason she suddenly remembered that she still had his sister’s wand which he had lent to her when she first arrived. She pulled it from her pocket. She should give it back and let him take something to his grave that had belonged to someone he had loved dearly. She carefully took the wand on his body from under his hand and compared the two wands. They were the same colour, she had never asked what tree her wand had come from but it looked identical to Dumbledore’s; the engraving on her wand was not the same as his and its length was a touch shorter. Unless someone was very familiar with his wand, (which was unlikely, wizards were possessive in the extreme with their wands,) no one would notice it was a different wand. She replaced her wand with his and leant over and kissed his brow. “Farewell, Albus. Thank you for allowing me to come to Hogwarts, for all that I’ve learned here, for all that you’ve taught me, for all the people I’ve met, the friends I’ve found and the family I’ve made. Whatever chain of events you’ve set in motion today I hope it works out the way you intended.” She gave him one last kiss and left the room, as she did the candles flickered as if touched by a sigh of relief in approval of her actions. 

Azalea and Winky went out of the front doors, which were still shattered from earlier but the Gryffindor hourglass had been repaired and the rubies replaced back inside it. Once outside Azalea slowly pushed the pram down the driveway to the main gates. She didn’t need to be outside the grounds in order to disapparate but she wanted to feel a connection to Severus by standing in the place she had last seen him. All the while since Azalea had arrived at the hospital, Fawkes had been singing his lament but now he stopped. The silence filled the air and Azalea decided there was another creature who didn’t need to be alone in his sorrow that night. She stopped walking and called, “Fawkes! To me.” A red and gold bird flew as if from nowhere and landed on her shoulder, he rubbed his head against her brown hair and she continued the journey to the gates. Once outside, Winky apparated them all away, in the quiet and gentle way that she had.

\--oOo—

Azalea attended Dumbledore’s funeral a few days later on her behalf and for Severus. They had been in contact since he had disappeared. She knew he was alive and uninjured but not where he was. She told Severus not to even think about coming to Dumbledore’s funeral, no disguise would get past the security that was set up for the funeral and Severus was top of the Ministry’s “Wanted” list. ^^What it is to be famous.^^ he’d said sardonically when she’d told him.

The funeral was a grand affair, the staff and students were in their dress robes, a large contingent of representatives from the Ministry of Magic were there, including, she noticed bitterly, Dolores Umbridge. Azalea saw Remus and Tonks holding hands, Tonks’ hair bright pink and she seemed happy despite the circumstances. A strange discordant music came from the lake and the merpeople rose to the surface singing their own tribute. Hagrid came out of the building carrying Dumbledore’s body which was covered in a purple velvet cloth spangled with stars. As Hagrid laid the body on the table, the cloth shifted and Azalea could see that Dumbledore still had the wand she had swapped, no one had made any mention of a change. She put her hand on the wand she now owned, she had used it a few times to get used to it. Having a different wand was like getting a new car, you could drive it straight away but it took a little longer to familiarise yourself with the differences but it wasn’t long before it became second nature and a perfect fit. 

A tufty-haired wizard rose to his feet and talked about Dumbledore’s good characteristics, Azalea couldn’t hear him properly and looked around to see who else was there. A movement in the trees caught her eyes, standing on the edge of the forest were centaurs. She had never seen the centaurs who lived in the forest but they were as she expected them to be, part human, part horse and all holding bows in their hands, a quiver of arrows on the human part of their back. They stood silently, half hidden in the shadow of the trees quietly paying their respects to Dumbledore. They seemed to become aware of her watching them and as one they all returned her gaze before raising their bows in salute, they lowered the bows, returned their attention to funeral and waited for the wizard to stop talking. When he had finished there was silence, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly bright, white flames erupted around Dumbledore’s body and the table upon which it lay: Higher and higher they rose, obscuring the body. White smoke spiralled into the air and made strange shapes: but the next second the fire had vanished. In its place was a white marble tomb, encasing Dumbledore’s body and the table on which he had rested. A shower of arrows soared through air, shot by the centaurs but landed short of the mourners. Azalea watched the centuars leave, melting into the dappled shadow of the forest. 

Azalea gave a short laugh – you had to give him credit - Dumbledore was a showman right to the end!


	69. What's in a name?

Azalea was in the lounge of her house reading through some of the text books given to her as part of her healer training. She might be on maternity leave but she needed to keep up with her studies so that she wasn’t too far behind when she returned to work in a few weeks’ time. Luke was asleep and Winky was in the kitchen preparing some dinner. The doorbell sounded cutting through the quiet of the house. Azalea put down the book she was reading, she wasn’t expecting any visitors, unless it was Harry. She had invited him, once again, to stay with her for all or part of the summer holidays. Once again he had declined, saying he had to spend one more holiday at Petunia’s house. Azalea had told him he had a standing invitation to visit in case things got unbearable at Privet Drive. She crossed the small hall and pulled open the front door. It was not Harry, it was a slim man of medium height, dressed in muggle clothing, he had straight black hair with a severe centre parting, his thin face and prominent nose were lightened by the smile on his face. He was holding a large bunch of flowers. He held them out to her, “Delivery for my beautiful lady,” he intoned. 

Azalea opened the door wide and dragged him inside. She took the flowers, placed them on the stairs, pulled his face towards hers and kissed him in a fervent greeting. He responded eagerly and they would have stayed like that for much longer had not a baby’s cry come from upstairs. They separated and Azalea said, “Luke knows Daddy’s home.” She took her husband’s hand and led Severus upstairs to see his son for the first time since he had been forced to flee from Hogwarts accused of the murder of Albus Dumbledore. 

Luke was lying in his cot, at the sound of people coming into the room his crying eased off. Azalea opened the curtains and Severus leaned over the cot and picked up his son. Luke stopped crying and Severus studied his son, “He looks different. It’s only been a little over a week since I last saw him and already he’s changed.”  
“Has he?” asked Azalea, “I see him every day and I don’t notice.” She put her arm around Severus and they both gazed at their baby with parental pride. Finally Azalea said, “One thing isn’t different. He needs a clean nappy and it must be Daddy’s turn by now! I wouldn’t want you to miss out on anything else.” Severus laughed, he’d happily do every nappy change if it meant he could stay here with his family. Azalea left him to clean up his son and went downstairs to tell Winky there was one more for dinner and to put the flowers in a vase. 

Severus came into the lounge with the baby a few minutes later. The first thing he noticed was a bird on golden perch. He stared in surprise, “Is that Fawkes?” he asked.

“Yes. I took him home after Dumbledore died. He seemed so alone but he fits in well here. He was a great comfort to me immediately afterwards.”

“He’s a very distinctive bird, what do you do with him when muggles come into your house?” Severus asked, admiring the bird’s red and golden plumage.

“Oh, they see him as a scarlet macaw, he’s obviously got his own way of disguising himself. He also acts like a guard dog, he squawks if anyone he doesn’t trust comes into the house.”

“The perch he’s on,” said Severus, “isn’t that the same one he had in Dumbledore’s office?”

“Yes, it is. I fetched it when I went to Dumbledore’s funeral,” Azalea said. “Do you know, there is already a portrait of Albus in the headmaster’s office? We had a nice little chat. He gave me lots of advice and tips on how to look after Fawkes and he gave me a book about it too. He also knew that you and I were married and congratulated me.”

Severus explained, “I told him shortly before Luke was born that we were married. I didn’t want him to think ill of you; to believe all those slanderous things that were being said about you.”

“Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me.” Azalea quoted and Severus gave her a quizzical look. “It’s a muggle saying,” she explained. “It’s not true of course, names can be just as hurtful as a physical attack, more so in same cases.”

Severus thought about his insult to Lily many years ago, calling her a mudblood. How it had irrevocably hurt both of them.

Azalea continued speaking, “Well, Dumbledore didn’t think ill of me. He said he was glad that you and I had found love. He told me that I was never to believe you guilty of his murder, that you had killed him on his own instructions. He asked me to stand by you, through thick and thin, that in the end it might be love that makes the difference between life and death.”

“A wise man,” observed Severus.

“Perhaps, but he kept too many secrets. He doled out information as if it was rationed. How are any of us meant to defeat Voldemort if we only know part of the story?” While Azalea had been speaking she recalled the note Harry had taken from the locket which had fallen from Dumbledore’s pocket as he fell from the tower. “Severus,” she asked, “what’s a horcrux?”

She saw him stiffen and he took on a serious expression, “Where did you hear about horcruxes?”

“I saw it written down somewhere. What are they?”

He sighed and explained, it was better that she hear the explanation from him, rather than myths and half-truths, “It is an object in which someone has hidden part of their soul.” 

“Why would anyone want to do that?” she asked. “Unless,” she said as a thought struck her, “unless, it’s to make them lose all their conscience and morals. You remember what I was like when my soul froze? If you only had half a soul, then you could commit evil deeds and not worry about it at all.”

“That could be one reason, but the main reason for doing it is because it gives a form of immortality. Even if the body is attacked or destroyed, you would never die, as long as the part of the soul in the horcrux was intact and undamaged.” Severus said.

“But how would you split your soul?” Azalea asked.

“By an act of supreme evil – usually murder. The act of murder would split the soul.”

“Does that mean that every murderer only has half a soul?” Azalea asked.

“No, the damaged soul would rejoin given time. But if a wizard wanted to create a horcrux, he would use the damage to hide part of his soul in an object.”

“How would they hide it?” Azalea asked.

“Azalea - that would be very Dark magic. I suppose there must be a spell but I don’t know it and neither would I want to. I wouldn’t want immortality by that route.”

“But some people would, wouldn’t they?” she persisted. “Could you make more than one horcrux?”

“Theoretically, I suppose you could,” he replied his mind racing along a path he had never thought to go before. Voldemort had worked out how to do it! How to create a horcrux! With alarming clarity all the pieces slotted together. The ring that had caused Dumbledore’s injury, the diary of Tom Riddle, the conversation with Dumbledore about Potter harbouring some of Voldemort’s soul. The Dark Lord had indeed split his soul and split it more than once. Severus asked Azalea exactly where she’d seen the word horcrux. Recognising his intensity of interest as more than mere curiosity she told him about the locket and the precise wording on the note. Severus calculated that Voldemort had intentionally split his soul into at least four pieces – the diary, the ring, the locket and the piece he retained in his own body. The part lodged in Potter was an accident but Voldemort must have been practised enough in the spell to be able to do it unconsciously. There must be more parts otherwise Voldemort would have noticed his soul slowly being destroyed. How many parts of his soul were there and where were they hidden?

Azalea interrupted his thoughts, “Severus, what are you thinking about, you’ve gone quiet?”

“Nothing,” he replied, “Nothing except for how much I love you and how much I’ve missed you and Luke these past few days.” She was so good for him, now she was his muse; a casual question, a few points of detail and she had enabled him to solve one of the mysteries that Dumbledore had only ever hinted at.

Azalea smiled in reply and asked how long he could stay. “Only until tomorrow morning, I don’t like to stay away too long. At the moment the Dark Lord’s trust in me is absolute, but I bought it at such a high price,” he said sadly, “the death of a fine man.”

Azalea pointed to his arm saying, “It looks like you’ve fulfilled your unbreakable vow, the binding is gone.” Severus stared at his arm, not seeing what she saw but believing it all the same, he had done as he promised to Narcissa. He was free of that danger. Azalea held up her own arm, “You’ve lost your binding and I’ve gained one.” 

“Why, what have you done?” he asked quickly.

“I made a vow of allegiance with Winky. She is bound to our family now and I must protect her.”

“But she was a free elf, why did you bind her?” he asked.

“It wasn’t my idea - she insisted,” said Azalea. “I think she doesn’t like being free, she wanted to belong somewhere.”

Severus looked at Azalea fondly and said softly, “I can understand why she did it; I am bound to you too. I belong to you.”

“And I to you,” replied Azalea.

It was a fine summer day and Azalea suggested they put Luke in his pram and take him for a walk. As they walked Severus was fascinated by his son’s fascination with the world. The baby’s eyes followed shadows and shiny reflections in the hood of his pram. Severus said as much to Azalea. “Babies are new experience junkies,” she said. “Just think, everything is new and exciting, he has so much to learn, and we must teach him. We will help to make him the man he will become.”

“Such a responsibility,” Severus commented.

“Yes, and one every parent has faced since time immemorial, we just have to do our best.” They walked in silence for a while, and Azalea changed the subject saying, “I’m worried about Charity. When I went to St Mungo’s last week to get more study material, her son, Julian, told me he hadn’t heard from her. It’s most unlike her to disappear without a trace. I hope this is nothing to do with that article she wrote for the Daily Prophet about inter-marriage between muggles and wizards.”

Severus recalled something he’d read recently and told her, “There was a small paragraph in the Daily Prophet which mentioned that she had resigned from teaching at Hogwarts.”

“That’s news to me, “said Azalea. “Has she resigned, do you know? I can’t believe it’s true, she loved her job and was trying to make a difference.”

“How could I know, Leah? I’ve had no contact with any one from Hogwarts recently, for obvious reasons.”

“Oh, of course you haven’t. If you hear anything you will let me know won’t you? Julian’s so worried and so am I. In the meantime, I’ll ask Minerva.”

\--oOo--

The following morning Severus reluctantly left Azalea’s house. It had been an oasis of calm and serenity in his currently brutal existence. Since he had fled Hogwarts he’d been staying at Malfoy Manor; he’d been unable to return to his own house in Spinners End – it was one of the first places the Ministry had looked for him. He hoped he still had a home to return to and they hadn’t destroyed it when searching for evidence. Narcissa had reluctantly let him stay in one of the small attic rooms that would once have housed servants. It had the advantage of being far away from Voldemort and most days he had avoided meeting him. His luck could not hold indefinitely and when he returned from visiting Azalea, Voldemort demanded Severus’ attendance. Severus went into the bright and airy room that Voldemort had taken for his own; he was sitting in an armchair and his snake, Nagini was curled up next to him basking in the sunlight that shone through the window. Severus was not invited to sit and from that small discourtesy he guessed the Dark Lord was not pleased about something.

“Severus,” he began, “my plan to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic is almost complete; before long we will have total control.”

“I am pleased to hear it, my Lord” Snape replied. He had not been included in the planning for the takeover but knew the basics of the plan, Death Eaters had already infiltrated the Ministry and shortly they would stage a coup and take over the top positions. Once that occurred the Ministry would be run according to Voldemort’s wishes.

“After we have gained access to the Ministry’s secrets we will be able to find and destroy many of my enemies.” Voldemort said, his eyes glowing at the thought of the retribution he would give to those enemies. 

“Indeed, My Lord,” muttered Snape.

“But,” Voldemort said bitterly, “the Ministy’s secrets will not help us to find Potter and other traitors who have already slipped the net.”

“We know where Potter is, my Lord, he is at his aunt’s house in Privet Drive,” said Snape, telling Voldemort nothing he didn’t already know.

“And we can’t touch him!” spat Voldemort angrily, “Dumbledore invoked some old magic to protect him.”

“Only until he is of age, my lord, which will be very soon. When that happens, the Order will try to move him to a safe place. I am working on a plan to capture him while they move him.” Snape reminded him.

Voldemort stared at Snape levelly and he returned the look with equanimity. “I can wait a few more days to kill Potter,” said Voldemort finally, “but he is not the only enemy. There are many other rebels who act against me and take my name in vain. I need to find them, to punish them as an example to others and to make all wizards submit to my rule.” Snape nodded in agreement and Voldemort continued, “I task you with finding a way to track my enemies.”

“Yes my Lord,” replied Snape, who already had an inkling of an idea but didn’t want to suggest it until he was sure it would work. 

He guessed that there would be an extensive library at the Manor, which would, no doubt include books on the Dark Arts. He was right and Narcissa made them available to him and he soon found what he was looking for. Once again it was a comment by Azalea that had given him the idea, but somehow he thought she would not want to take the credit. 

He put his idea to Voldemort. “My Lord, most of the wizards fear to use your name, “Lord Voldemort”, but those who follow Dumbledore consider it an act of defiance to sully your name by speaking it from their unworthy mouths. I believe we should put a Taboo on the use of your name. We can protect it with enchantments and when the name is spoken it will create a magical disturbance. By tracking the disturbance we can locate the speakers and go at once to where they are hiding. We will need to ensure that there is always someone tracking the Taboo, night and day, to alert the Death Eaters to where the traitors can be found.”

Voldemort replied, “An excellent idea, Severus, once more you have proved your usefulness to me. Ensure that it is done.”

“Of course, my lord,” Snape said as he made a quick bow and left the presence of Voldemort. He would have to warn Azalea never to use the word again. If Potter was foolish enough to continue to use the name, he hoped he (Snape) would have enough prior warning to intervene before Potter was caught.


	70. Those I Cannot Save

It was dark when Snape arrived at the boundary of Hogwarts. Since Azalea had mentioned the portrait of Dumbledore in the head teacher’s office, Snape had been anxious to talk to him. He may be dead but Snape could still seek his advice. Snape had expected the wards and protections on the school to have been changed since he fled but they hadn’t and he easily got through them, perhaps Minerva had more pressing matters to think about? In any event the students had all left for the summer holidays so they were at no risk from lax security. He did, however, take the precaution of using a disillusionment spell as he made his way to the head teacher’s office. The spiral staircase leading up to the office was exposed and fixed, the guardian gargoyle standing motionless to one side. Snape supposed the need for passwords would return once a new head teacher was appointed. The school governors were to convene soon to decide who that person should be. He ascended the stairs and entered the office. It was unchanged from the last time he had been in here just a few weeks ago. The spindly-legged tables with Dumbledore’s collection of magical devices were still dotted around the office, the large desk, the chairs, the cabinets, everything the same except for the absence of Fawkes’ perch and the addition of another portrait on the wall behind the desk. A portrait of Dumbledore in his prime with no withered arm, looking strong and confident, his blue eyes twinkling out from behind his half-moon spectacles. 

The portrait spoke to him, “Hello Severus, how are you keeping?”

“I have been better,” he replied sardonically, “I am accused of murder, I am in hiding with my worst enemy, I am separated from my wife and child and I need to find a way to get Potter to safety when he turns 17 and all the while making it look as if I have to stop him.”

“I can help you with the last one,” the portrait said.

“I hoped you would,” replied Snape, “That is the reason for which I came.”

Dumbledore’s portrait spoke and the sound of the familiar voice caused Snape to grieve for his death again. “There isn’t a finally decided plan for Harry’s removal, at present the plan is for a contingent of Aurors to move him the day before his birthday. Unfortunately, the Ministry of Magic has been infiltrated by Death Eaters and I would not be certain that they could keep this plan from the Death Eaters. I have been working with the Order of the Phoenix with an alternative plan.”

“I should ensure that I give the Dark Lord some accurate information,” said Snape, “he trusts me at the moment, I must build on that.” 

“I agree - you will have to give Voldemort the correct date of Harry’s departure from his aunt and uncle’s,” said Dumbledore. “Not to do so will raise suspicion, when Voldemort believes you so well informed.”

“The Order will have to get Potter out,” Snape. “Using an army of Aurors is more likely to cause injury to Potter. They need to consider an alternative plan.” He started with the most logical idea, “Why not move him by way of a portkey or a side by side apparation?” he asked.

Dumbledore responded, “The Order believes that Pius Thicknesse, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has joined Voldemort, whether voluntarily or not is unclear. However, he has made it an offense carrying a prison sentence to connect Harry’s aunt’s house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey there, or Apparate in or out. He says it to protect Harry against kidnap by Death Eaters.” 

Snape paused for a while thinking of other options he had considered already and suggested one of them to Dumbledore “What about using decoys to get Potter away? Some of the Aurors could take polyjuice to disguise themselves as Potter. In order to pursue him the Death Eaters would have to split their forces giving the real Potter a better chance to escape.”

“An excellent idea, Severus. However, you must plant the idea of decoys; that, I think, ought to ensure Harry’s safety.”

“I realise I cannot suggest it myself,” said Snape, slightly irritated by Dumbledore stating the obvious, “but it should come from a member of the Order. What about Fletcher? He is of weak will and open to suggestion.”

“Yes, try confunding Mundungus Fletcher,” said Dumbledore.

“Would you know where I can find Fletcher? Snape enquired.

“Ah indeed, he is a frequent patron at The Witch’s Broom Tavern, in Nocturn Alley,” Dumbledore said.

“I know the place,” mumbled Snape. 

“And Severus,” Dumbledore cautioned, “If you are forced to take part in the chase, be sure to act your part convincingly. I am counting upon you to remain in Lord Voldemort’s good books as long as possible, or Hogwarts will be left to the mercy of the Carrows.”

\--oOo—

Snape arrived at Malfoy Manor at the same time as Yaxley, who had been incarcerated in Azkaban until recently, but the Dark Lord had rescued him, by the simple expedient of luring the dementors away by the promise of richer pickings if they joined his side. Snape and Yaxley walked together up the path and entered the drawing room at the same time. The room was full, almost every seat around the long table occupied, Snape noticed that Lucius Malfoy was one them, also recently released from Azkaban. A movement above the table caught Snape’s eye and he glanced up. An apparently unconscious human figure was hanging upside down over the table, revolving slowly as if suspended by an invisible rope. Reflected in the mirror on the wall and in the bare, polished surface of the table below Snape could clearly see it was Charity and his heart sank. Voldemort ignored the sight and instructed the two new arrivals to take their seats.

Once seated Snape told Voldemort the information he had been waiting for. “My Lord, the Order of the Phoenix intends to move Harry Potter from his current place of safety on Saturday next, at nightfall.”

Voldemort stared into Snape’s eyes checking for the truth of what he was saying and was satisfied with what he saw. He dismissed Yaxley’s alternative information that Potter would be transferred on the 30th July, the day before his 17th birthday. If it turned out Snape’s information was wrong, they would have a second chance to capture the boy on the 30th. Snape would pay, of course, and his usefulness would be at end. 

“Where are they going to hide the boy next?”

“At the home of one of the Order,” said Snape. “The place has been given every protection that the Order and Ministry together could provide. I think that there is little chance of taking him once he is there, my Lord, unless, of course, the Ministry has fallen before next Saturday, which might give us the opportunity to discover and undo enough of the enchantments to break through the rest.”

“It is unlikely that the Ministry will be mine before next Saturday. If we cannot touch the boy at his destination, then it must be done while he travels.” Voldemort did not like failure but if they failed to catch Potter in the open, there would be another chance when the Ministry had fallen and the enchantments removed.

Seemingly satisfied with the arrangements to capture Potter, Voldemort moved on to a monologue about how had he had been thwarted in his attempts so far to kill Potter, and he took Lucius’ wand but Snape was not paying full attention. His concern was with Charity. What could he do to help her? He could leap up and fight all the assembled Death Eaters in an attempt to rescue her, he might even kill some of them before he was overwhelmed, it was a fight he knew he could not win. If it was Azalea hanging up there he would have done it already, the second he saw her. He felt shame for his double standards, Charity’s life was worth as much as Azalea’s. He returned his attention to the conversation, Voldemort was taunting Bellatrix for the marriage of her cousin, Tonks, to the werewolf Lupin. Azalea had been invited to the wedding, she had told Severus the wedding had been quiet almost to the point of secret. She said was glad that their wedding hadn’t been like that in the end. 

Charity came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds, which also prevented her from apparating out of danger.

“Do you recognize our guest, Severus?” asked Voldemort.

Snape raised his eyes to the upside-down face. As she revolved to face the firelight, she said in a cracked and terrified voice, “Severus! Help me!”

“Ah, yes,” said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again. As she turned he looked into her eyes and read fear in her mind. Inside his own mind he was screaming “Charity forgive me! Forgive me for my seeming indifference to your plight.”

She rotated whilst Voldemort told the assembled Death Eaters who she was and that she had written an article in the Daily Prophet in defence of mudbloods. As she passed Snape again she said “Severus … please … please …” Voldemort silenced her with a flick of his borrowed wand and her voice spoke no more.

Snape continued to pour out his distraught thoughts in her direction, ^^Charity I can’t, I can’t! Leah, Luke, Harry, all the students – too much is at risk. I hold too many lives in my hands.^^

To his amazement he heard her reply, ^^Leah? You and Leah?^^ and she was momentarily distracted from the fate that awaited her.

He responded, ^^Yes, we are married.^^

^^That’s why she’s so happy. Never make her sad, Severus.^^

^^I won’t Charity.^^ 

Voldemort raised his wand and Charity shouted to Severus, ^^Julian! Tell Julian!^^

^^I’ll tell Julian that you are an honourable and courageous woman.^^

^^Stay with me.^^

^^To the end Charity, I can do no more.^^

By now tears were pouring from Charity’s eyes running down her hair, she was unable to cry aloud due to Voldemort’s silencing spell. Anyone looking at Snape would have seen only an impassive expression but in his mind he was singing to her, a lullaby he’d sang to Luke only the other day, 

“Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,  
Smiles await you when you rise.  
Sleep,  
Pretty baby,  
Do not cry,  
And I will sing a lullaby.

Cares you know not,  
Therefore sleep,  
While over you a watch I'll keep.  
Sleep,  
Pretty darling,  
Do not cry,  
And I will sing a lullaby.” 

Before he’d finished he heard Voldemort say “Avada Kedavra”

As her life faded he saw an archway with tattered curtains flapping as if touched by a breeze. As they blew open he saw a man in muggle clothing, with a strong resemblance to Julian, standing in the mist beyond. His arms opened and Charity passed willingly through the mist towards him. Snape closed the connection to her mind as he heard her body crash to the table. How was he ever going to explain to Azalea and Julian that Voldemort had just wanted to practice with his borrowed wand and had then fed Charity’s body to his snake?

Snape went in person to tell Azalea that Charity was dead at Voldemort’s hand and that Voldemort had destroyed her body. He held her close while she wept for her friend, it was all he could do for her and Voldemort notched up another reason for Snape’s hatred. Azalea said she’d tell Julian, it was too risky for Severus to do so. It was a further burden that her love for him had given her and he despised himself for it. 

\--oOo—

The night of Potter’s transfer arrived. Snape was hovering above number 4 Privet Drive along with around thirty other hooded Death Eaters, all on broomsticks. He had been sitting there for almost half an hour and, although it was summer, the night air high above the ground was decidedly chilly. Several people had arrived at the house under disillusionment charms and had quickly gone inside. The Death Eaters above were unable to break into the house until Harry came of age, which wasn’t for three more days, so they were forced to wait until those inside the house came out. 

Snape shifted position on the broomstick, it no longer held the appeal for him that it did when he was younger. Azalea had never liked them and once she learned how to fly without one she hadn’t used one again. Snape spent a few moments thinking of how intuitive Azalea could be with some things, she just “knew” how to fly without ever being taught. Yet other spells she had to see and hear before she could do them and, so far, she had not managed to invent an original spell. She had taught him how to fly without a broom and he recalled the first time they had chased each other through the skies. When she allowed him to catch her she had sung to him by way of their mind link

^^Can you read my mind?  
Do you know what it is you do to me?  
Don't know who you are  
Just a friend from another star

If you need a friend  
I'm the one to fly to  
If you need to be loved  
Here I am, read my mind

Read my mind^^

Then she’d laughed and called him her Superman, her Man of Steel. Later he had looked up the reference but couldn’t agree with her comparison. One day Voldemort had seen him fly into Malfoy Manor without a broomstick and had insisted that Snape showed him how to do it. Now the Dark Lord was converted to flying free. 

Snape’s reflections were interrupted by the huge roar of a motorcycle - he recognised the sounds of muggle machines now he spent more time in their world. He peered into the darkness and could make out shapes rising from the garden of 4 Privet Drive. As they rose higher he was able to discern the outlines of four broomsticks, two thestrals and a motorcycle with a side car all carrying two people apiece. Snape head a shout from one of the Death Eaters, “Move, surround them!” 

As one body all of the mounted Death Eaters swooped down and encircled the rising posse. The Death Eaters immediately began firing spells. In the moonlight and the illumination from the wand fire Snape was able to make out Moody, Lupin, Tonks and Arthur Weasley on brooms, Bill Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt on thestrals and the distinctive size of Hagrid on the motorcycle, each one was accompanied by an identical Harry Potter. “Which one is it?” he heard a Death Eater shout, and in reply another shouted, “We’ll have to split up!”

Four Death Eaters broke away and chased Hagrid, five pursued Kingsley, six took after Bill and Moody who were both heading north, Snape noticed that Bellatrix immediately chased Tonks; no doubt recalling the jibe that Voldemort had directed towards her about Tonks’ marriage and her promise to the Dark Lord that she would prune the unhealthy branches of her family tree. Snape had to decide quickly whom he could help. He didn’t know which one was the real Harry Potter. Hagrid’s motorcycle was faster than Snape could fly on a broom and Hagrid already had a head start, Moody, Shacklebolt and Tonks were trained aurors - they should be able to defend themselves and protect Bill who had gone off with Moody. Snape decided to assist Lupin and Arthur Weasley, he shot off spells in all directions, purposely missing the Order members and if he could, he would “accidently” interfere with a Death Eater’s aim. As the circle split apart, Voldemort swept in flying free. He headed straight for Moody, but by now Snape was committed to following Lupin and Arthur, he would have to leave Moody to his fate. The fight was fast and fierce and Snape could not track what had happened to all the participants who had headed off in different directions. He was now in the pack following Arthur and Lupin. He flew at breakneck speed, he saw something small and white flutter past him, at the same time his hood blew back exposing his face but he did not spare any of his attention to put it back in place. He was chasing Lupin and was being followed by other Death Eaters, one of them overtook him and raised his wand pointing it directly at Lupin’s back. Snape couldn’t let Lupin die in case he had the real Potter with him. Snape pointed his own wand at the Death Eater’s wand had shouting, “Sectumsempra!” but the spell missed and hit the ear of the Potter on the broom. Snape was aghast, luckily it wasn’t a fatal wound and he would know soon enough if it was the real Potter. 

The seven Potters had flown in different directions pursued by Death Eaters. Snape felt rather heard Voldemort’s voice echo in his mind “MINE!” Snape looked around for Voldemort but couldn’t see him. The Dark Lord had clearly found the real Potter and it wasn’t the one with Lupin that Snape was chasing. He gave up the chase and raced back desperately trying to locate where the real Potter was. Far in the distance he saw a sudden bright burst of golden light and Voldemort’s furious scream “NO!” Snape shot off in that direction, several of the other Death Eaters in his wake. He heard Voldemort shout “Your wand, Selwyn, give me your wand!” By the time Snape arrived at the scene there was no sign of Potter and the Dark Lord was venting his fury on anyone who got too close.

Snape considered retreat would be the best course of action and returned to the Death Eater headquarters at Malfoy Manor. Most of the others followed him and when they returned they counted their losses - at least 6 injured and one killed. Voldemort had managed to kill Moody, which would greatly weaken the side of the Order of the Phoenix but Potter had escaped again. Voldemort returned in an ill-temper and the manor house rang to the sounds of the screams of the imprisoned wand maker, Olivander, as the Dark Lord viciously punished him for his own failure to kill Potter. 

Snape retired to his attic room to distance himself from the pleas of the frail old man, whom he could not help. He reached into his pocket to pull out the photograph of Lily, which was now very dog eared, he should have put some sort of preserving spell on it. His hand held on to nothing, the photograph wasn’t there. He turned the pocket inside out, checked the other pockets but it still wasn’t there. With feeling of despondency he remembered a white item flying past when he was pursuing Lupin. The photograph must have blown from his pocket after all this time. He had carried it around since Azalea gave it to him, it reminded him of her as well as Lily. His felt a sense of loss but pulled himself together - it was only an object, he still had the memory of Lily, he had survived for years without an image of her he could manage again and he had the real Azalea to share his life now. That was worth a thousand times more than any token of remembrance.


	71. The First Casualty of War is Truth

Snape stood inside the doorway of 12 Grimmauld Place and waited whilst his eyes adjusted to the light in the dim hallway. The last time he had been here was several weeks before Dumbledore’s death. Snape had come to Grimmauld Place today because he was aware that the fall of the Ministry into Voldemort’s control was imminent. He knew that since Dumbeldore’s death the Order no longer used Grimmauld Place as their headquarters but he wanted to make sure there was no incriminating evidence left at that the house to implicate or identify Order of the Phoenix members but more importantly that there was nothing to show that Azalea was involved with the Order. Azalea had continued to come to the house from time to time to check on Kreacher. Why she bothered with the unpleasant house elf Snape had no idea, but her consideration for others was part of her nature. She said Kreacher had his good days and bad days, all he really needed was for his master to treat him well and Kreacher, like all house elves, would show unwavering loyalty.

Snape drew out his wand and walked slowly up the corridor, Azalea had warned him that Moody had left some jinxes, the first one was a tongue tying curse. He heard Moody’s voice whispering “Severus Snape,” and Snape immediately cast the counter spell to prevent the jinx from affecting him. He crept further into the house looking for the next jinx, suddenly a grey figure arose from the carpet, it was as Azalea had described, a much-altered version of Dumbledore, a sunken faced spectre with empty eye sockets, its long hair and beard streaming behind flying towards Snape, pointing at him with its withered arm. Snape stood his ground and the spectre flew past him exploding in a cloud of dust behind him. Even without Azalea’s warnings those jinxes would not have prevented him from entering the house but he was glad he had known what to expect; they had been unnerving. 

The curtains over Mrs Black’s portrait opened and as she prepared to start her demented screaming Snape pre-empted her, “Hello Walburga,” he said politely, “Azalea sends her greetings.”

Mrs Black stopped and glared at him, “How is Azalea?” she asked, “She is an infrequent visitor here now.”

“She is well,” Snape replied.

“And her son, who I’ve heard is my grandson?”

“He is well too,” Snape replied with the now familiar feeling of parental disloyalty rushing through him when he was unable to acknowledge his own son. 

“I hope he doesn’t grow up to be a disappointment to her, break her heart and ruin her life,” Mrs Black responded bitterly.

“I’m confident that scenario will not occur,” responded Snape quickly and moved from her view. 

He went down to the kitchen, there were some scrolls left scattered on the table, he glanced through them, they seemed innocuous but he placed them in the hearth and burnt them, just in case someone with more time than he had could decipher hidden meanings. He went from room to room, swiftly pulling open drawers and cupboards, quickly assessing the contents and destroying anything that might harm the Order. He went into the bedroom that Azalea had stayed in. She hadn’t slept in it since Sirius had died but he could still feel her presence; it was in the indentation of the mattress where she had lay down; it was in the pictures that she had hung on the wall – green landscapes and wild seas; it was in the sunlight that blazed through the windows she had cleaned to a shine; it was in the smell of the bowl of dried flower petals she had put on the shelf. He remembered why he was here and started to open drawers and cupboards. They were all empty, she had cleared them out and he was glad; no Death Eaters would be rummaging through her belongings.

He reached the final floor, there were two doors off it. The first had a sign on it reading “Do Not Enter  
Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black”. Snape turned the handle but the door was locked, he swiftly opened it with the Alohomora spell and went in. The room was adorned with Slytherin colours and a montage of yellowing newspaper cuttings all about Voldermort were on stuck on the wall. Snape remembered Regulus Black as being an avid supporter of Voldemort and a loyal Death Eater until one day he simply vanished. To mention his name would incur the anger of the Dark Lord. Snape searched through the drawers, breaking an ink bottle in one them as he turned over the contents but there was nothing of interest here. He left the room and locked the door behind him.

The second door off the hallway had a name plate bearing the word “Sirius” so he knew whose room this would have been. In contrast to his brother’s room, this one was hung out with Gryffindor insignia and posters of motorcycles and scantily clad muggle women. Snape set to searching this room too, he rifled through the drawers and shook out the books on the shelves, not caring if the books were torn in the process. When he grabbed “A History of Magic”, by Bathilda Bagshot the cover fell off and a letter fell out from his pages. He picked it up to see if it was of interest. With a start he recognised the handwriting, he pulled out the letter and a photograph fluttered out, falling face-up on the threadbare carpet, from it Lily smiled up at him with a baby on a broomstick next to her. He quickly read the letter, it was from Lily to Black, a chatty two-page note about Harry’s first birthday and their neighbour Bathilda Bagshot; at the end of the second page she had signed it off “lots of love, Lily”. The sight of this suddenly and inexplicably triggered in Snape a huge wave of grief for everything he had lost in the past few weeks, the deaths of Dumbledore, Charity and also Mad-Eye Moody; the destruction of Snape’s reputation and his standing at Hogwarts, even the loss of the photograph of Lily that Azalea had given him, blown away by the wind with no chance of him catching it. He broke down and cried. Huge sobs dredged up from deep inside, tears poured down his face and dripped off the end of his nose. An irrational thought came to him in his sorrow, he didn’t have to lose everything - here was one small thing he could replace right now – the photograph of Lily and her words on the letter. He screwed up the first page of the letter and cast it aside, the second page bearing her name and her love he tucked inside his robes. He tore the photograph in two keeping the part with Lily and threw the other half away where it ended up under the chest of drawers. 

He fled from the room and went to the bathroom, here he washed his face, but all the water in the world could not wash away the grief. He saw his reflection in the mirror, eyes rimmed red and skin all blotchy, he needed to regain his composure before he returned to Malfoy Manor. He ran down the stairs and out of the house, knocking over a troll’s leg umbrella stand as he went but not bothering to replace it. Once outside the house he took several deep breaths and walked slowly around the shabby square until he regained enough control to apparate back to the Manor.

\--oOo—

Azalea had not seen Severus for over a week and their telepathic communication was brief, Severus let her know every day that he was all right but never stopped to chat. When Azalea received an owl from Tonks asking if she could pay Azalea a visit, Azalea jumped at the chance to get some information. They met at a park café, sitting outside in the summer sunshine. Tonks held Luke her lap whilst the two women chatted.

Azalea had not been invited to Bill and Fleur’s wedding but she had heard that the party had been raided by Death Eaters. The first thing that she asked about was what had happened. Tonks was astonished that no one had thought to tell Azalea.

“I expect they all thought someone else had done it,” Azalea said.

“Yeah, that’s what I assumed,” Tonks had replied. Then she told Azalea about how Kingsley had managed to give the guests a few seconds warning that the Ministry had fallen, those seconds had been vital in getting everyone to safety. 

“Where’s Harry?” Azalea asked.

“He is safe, for now,” Tonks said, “Remus has spoken to him but he wouldn’t tell me where he is.”

“And you?” asked Azalea, “Are you all right? You’re a known supporter of Dumbledore, if the Ministry has fallen then you must be out of a job.”

“I’m out of a paid job, Azalea but I’m still working against Vol-“

“NO!” shouted Azalea cutting her off in mid-word, “Don’t say his name, it’s got a taboo on it. Anyone who says it will soon be surrounded by Death Eaters. The Dark Lord is working on the assumption that only those actively working against him would dare to use his name.”

“How do you know this?” Tonks asked curiously.

“I know, just believe me,” urged Azalea. In this time of fear and secrets Tonks decided not to press Azalea for her source of information. “How did the takeover of the Ministry happen?” Azalea asked, “I’ve been a bit out of Wizard politics since I had Luke and moved back into the muggle world.”

“You’re probably safer here than in the wizard world,” commented Tonks as she shifted Luke on her lap. “Anyway, the new minister is Pius Thicknesse. The story is that the previous minister – Scrimgeour - has resigned but the Order believes he’s been murdered. Now Thicknesse is acting as You Know Who’s puppet dealing with the day to day matters of running the Ministry and leaving the big man to increase his power base in other areas. Also, because You Know Who hasn’t actually put his name to the takeover, not everyone is convinced he is behind it. If he had stormed in and seized power in his own name, there would have been open rebellion. As it is the confusion and uncertainty about his involvement means that the public aren’t quite sure what is going on. To make matters worse, one of the first things Thicknesse has done is to implicate Harry in the murder of Dumbledore.”

“Harry had nothing to do with that!” Azalea said heatedly.

“I know but the Death Eaters have also infiltrated the Daily Prophet and a recent headline was that Harry was wanted for questioning about the death of Albus Dumbledore.”

“The first causality of war is truth,” Azalea quoted.

“I couldn’t agree more. With Harry now under suspicion his potential as a rallying point for the resistance is reduced especially for people who are wavering about which side they should be on.”

“So there’s no chance of Harry being able to go back to school in September,” Azalea said, “he’d be arrested in an instant.”

“None at all,” replied Tonks, “To make matters worse, the Ministry has decreed that attendance at school is compulsory so Harry could be picked up for truancy if nothing else. The idea of compulsory schooling is so that You Know Who can keep an eye on young wizards and weed out the muggle born.”

“The muggle born?” Azalea asked instantly alert. 

Tonks explained, “As of a couple of days ago, the Ministry has introduced a register of muggle born witches and wizards. The Ministry is quoting research that magic can only be inherited, so if you don’t have wizard ancestors then the only way you could have obtained magic is by stealing it from a wizard. If you can’t prove you have at least one close wizard relative you will be deemed to be muggle born and punished for stealing magic.”

“But that is simply ridiculous,” said Azalea in horror, “Any sane person know that is nonsense.”

“I know,” replied Tonks, “That’s why I said earlier that you are better off staying in the muggle world.”

Azalea sighed, she knew staying in the muggle world wasn’t really an option for her. If Voldemort wasn’t stopped in the wizard world it would only be a matter of time before he turned his full attention to the muggle world. She said to Tonks, “All this bad news from the wizard world, isn’t there any good news you can tell me.”

Tonks blushed a little and her pink hair turned darker to match her cheeks, and replied, “Well there’s good news as far as I’m concerned but it doesn’t affect the whole wizard world.”

“What it is then, spill the beans?” said Azalea light heartedly.

“I’m pregnant” announced Tonks.

“Blimey that was quick, you’ve only been married five minutes!” Azalea joked, “But congratulations. What was Remus’ reaction?”

“To start with not good. He kept going on about how the baby might inherit his condition, that he’s made us outcasts, how he should never have married me and wouldn’t I be better off without him.”

Azalea remembered Severus’ reaction, surprised, to be sure, and nothing but supportive ever since, “And now?” she prompted Tonks.

Tonks smiled broadly and Azalea knew all was well, “Now he can’t stop talking about all the things we will do and how excited he is about becoming a father when he never thought he would be one.” In her joy she added jokingly but tactlessly, “You’re a fine one to talk about being married for five minutes - you weren’t even married!”

Azalea replied quietly, “It’s wasn’t because I didn’t want to be.”

Tonks was immediately contrite, “Oh, I’m sorry Azalea, I didn’t mean to upset you.” She bounced Luke on her lap and looked into his face, “I’m sure his eyes are getting darker, Sirius had blue eyes and yours are green.”

“Babies’ eye colour changes after they’re born,” observed Azalea casually. “Tell me how you’re feeling. Any morning sickness yet?” Tonks stopped her examination of Luke’s eyes and the conversation turned to pregnancy and babies.

\--oOo--

Azalea and Severus lay in each other’s arms in Azalea’s bed, Luke was asleep for the night and Winky had taken Benny to go and visit the house elves at Hogwarts as she often did. Since Azalea’s conversation with Tonks she had been concerned about the muggle born register and she mentioned it to Severus. “How am I going to prove that I’m not a muggle born? I can hardly declare who my grandfather is, can I? As far as the world knows my father is “unknown”. I know I could stay here in the muggle world but I want to finish my training and I’m meant to be going back to work in a couple of weeks. Luke should be all right because everyone thinks his father is Sirius and even if no one believed me, you would come forward and claim him, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, I would. I’d have done it already if it was safe,” he assured her. “You don’t have to worry, Leah, I’ve been working on a story for you. Since the Ministry declared Potter as undesirable number one, the pressure has been off me and I’ve been able to get out and see people without being arrested.” He pulled her more closely into his embrace, “Cato Scrips, the potion maker has agreed to testify that you are his niece, the illegitimate daughter of his brother who died a few years ago.”

“Why would he do that?” asked Azalea, “he barely knows me.” A sudden thought occurred to her, “You didn’t threaten him did you?” she asked.

“Of course I didn’t!” he said emphatically. “It was his idea. I was in his shop, and he asked about you. He believes I am in love with you.”

“Well you are,” she said.

“I’ve never said as much to him. He’s a romantic at heart and one of only a handful of people I’ve ever trusted. I told him you were in hiding because you couldn’t prove your blood status. He came up with the plan. He said his brother had confessed to him, shortly before he died, that he’d had an affair with a muggle woman and that she’d become pregnant. The brother had panicked and abandoned her before the baby was born. Before he died, he asked Cato to seek out the woman and discover what became of her and her child.”

“That’s sounds a bit like art imitating life to me,” said Azalea, “my real father did abandon my mother and me.”

Severus continued, “It took Cato years to locate his brother’s child and when he finally did he discovered that her mother was dead. Now he is ready to meet his long lost niece.”

“Is there any truth to this story?” she asked, “is there a real niece somewhere out there?”

“Not as far as I am aware,” he replied.

“So he is impugning his brother’s memory and lying himself for someone he barely knows. Why would he do that?”

“I’ve agreed to go and work for him. I won’t be able to do it publically, he doesn’t want my name to taint the good reputation of Scrips and Co but I don’t mind being behind the scenes, working on business proposals and inventing potions.”

“He must think very highly of you to take such risks,” Azalea said.

“He’s been asking me for years to come and work for him again. I like Cato and if it keeps you safe then I’m happy to do it.”

“What about Luke, does he know about him?”

“He knows you’ve been on maternity leave, the St Mungo’s staff who go into his shop told him when he asked where you were. I expect he’s reached his own conclusions.”

Azalea lifted her head and looked into Severus’ face, “How soon can I meet my uncle Cato?” she asked.

“Tomorrow,” he replied, “but for now I have you all to myself.” He kissed her and they moved closer together until they were as one.


	72. Back to Work

Azalea returned to work towards the end of August and quickly settled back into the routine of work. St Mungo’s had a workplace nursery and Luke was well looked after while she was working. Mr Scrips had testified that he was her uncle, as a well-respected business man he was believed although there was a certain amount of gossip about his brother’s behaviour. He had brushed aside Azalea’s concerns about bad publicity saying that his brother had done more good in this act after he was dead than he had done during his lifetime. To reinforce the story they had told about her blood status, Azalea had been welcomed into his family and she felt bad about deceiving them. Mr Scrips’ wife had been delighted with Luke because her grandchildren were almost grown up and she liked the baby stage best of all. Azalea had not said who the baby’s father was and Mr Scrips had asked his family not to press her on the issue. He had no proof that Severus was the father but he only had to see the three of them together and in their rare unguarded moments the truth was clear to him. He kept his conclusions to himself, no good would come of revealing the secret that they kept so tightly. Furthermore, he liked Azalea, it wasn’t long before she had become an integral part of his extended family and he wished she really was his niece.

The occasions Azalea and Severus could spend together increased in number and sometimes they went to Spinners End as a change from her house. Voldemort spent a lot of time away on some quest of his own. He had not taken Severus into his confidence but Severus suspected it was something to do with how Potter had, once again, managed to defeat him on the day he had been moved from Privet Drive. Afterwards Voldemort had tortured the imprisoned wand maker, Olivander, about why Potter’s wand had acted why it did. Snape knew he was not the only person relieved about the Dark Lord’s long absences.

Severus surprised Azalea by coming home and announcing that he had been appointed as headmaster of Hogwarts. Azalea had been kneeling on the floor changing Luke at the time and stopped mid-action. “You didn’t tell me you’d applied for the job!” she accused him.

“I had promised Dumbledore before he died that I would look out for the students of Hogwarts, what better way than being headmaster? Voldemort instructed the school governors to appoint me, he wants someone he trusts in charge of the school, in case Potter shows up.” Severus explained.

“What about your promise to Cato about helping him with the company?” Azalea said angrily, “If you knew you were being lined up to be headmaster then why did you let him lie for me when you had no intention of keeping your side of the bargain?”

“It was Cato’s idea to be your uncle, I didn’t make him do it! I didn’t know for certain I’d be appointed as headmaster,” he responded heatedly, “there was a good chance that I would be working for him.”

“But there was a greater chance that you wouldn’t!” Azalea cried, “You lied to him to make him help me.”

“I didn’t lie to him!” Severus said forcefully.

“You omitted to tell him the full truth – don’t you argue semantics with me! If I’d known I would never have agreed to it!”

“I know you wouldn’t – that’s why I couldn’t tell you!” he responded passionately. He knelt down on the floor next to her where Luke lay momentarily forgotten and looking in confusion at his parents shouting at each other. Severus spoke more quietly, “I had to keep you and Luke safe. I would lie for you, I would die for you. I didn’t know how to get you past the muggle born registration without the truth of your relationship with the Dark Lord being revealed and that would be a greater danger to you. The suggestion from Cato was a godsend. I’ll explain to him about my duty to the students, I will keep my promise to him one day, but just not at the present time.”

Azalea returned to Luke and continued to change his nappy, she spoke to Severus in a restrained voice, “I know you want to protect us, but I don’t want you to do it by scheming and lying to people on our side. What’s done is done and Cato will probably understand but it was wrong, Severus, to make a promise you knew you couldn’t keep.” She finished with the nappy and picked up Luke and handed him to Severus saying brightly at the same time, “Now, tell me about your plans for being headmaster.” Severus smiled in relief knowing she had accepted the situation. 

\--oOo--

At the very end of the school holidays Azalea went to Grimmauld Place to check on Kreacher because she hadn’t been for about a month. She left Luke at home with Winky and Severus who was deep in preparation for his new job, she kissed him when she left but he barely noticed and returned to his work. As she had anticipated Cato had understood that Severus was needed more at Hogwarts than he was at Scrips and Co. and he had readily agreed to defer Severus’s involvement in the firm until a later date. He did, however, insist that Azalea and Luke visit him on a regular basis, something Azalea was happy to do, it would be good for Luke to have a grandfather figure. 

She apparated straight into 12 Grimmauld Place as she always did, the enchantments being no barrier to her. She casually countered the tongue tie spell with a flick of her hand and ignored the Dumbledore spectre as usual. She opened the curtains to Mrs Black’s portrait to greet her but before she said a word Mrs Black said in a harsh whisper, “I have company.” Azalea pulled out her wand and asked who they were. “It’s that godson that my disloyal son left my house to in his will with his mudblood and pureblood traitor companions. For centuries this house had belonged only to the Blacks, passed down from generation to generation,” she said shrilly. “He had no right to let it leave the family, no right at all!”

Azalea knew from experience not to bother to argue unless she had time to spare. Knowing that Harry was in the house she had not the time to spare. “Where are they?” she demanded cutting across Mrs Black.

“In the kitchen,” she replied grumpily, “and they’ve changed Kreacher.”

Azalea closed the curtain and tiptoed towards the kitchen, surely they must have heard Walburga’s voice? Apparently not. Azalea opened the door leading down the kitchen, she could hear voices and recognised Harry’s. She descended the stairs and it was only when she reached the bottom stair that they noticed she was there. All three teenagers grabbed for their wands but Azalea disarmed them all with a single sweep of her hand, she didn’t want anyone injured by a misfired spell. As the wands clattered to the floor Azalea said, “So this is where you’ve been hiding. It’s a bit obvious isn’t it?” She looked around the kitchen, it was spotless, the pots and pans were gleaming and the room shone of cleanliness. “I like what you’ve done to the place,” she said. 

Kreacher came up from the cellar carrying a bottle of olive oil, he was unrecognisable, he was dressed in a snowy white towel; his hair had been washed and made a cloudy halo around his head, on his chest was a locket she recognised as the one Harry had found the day Dumbledore died. “My lady!” said Kreacher in delight, “Have you come for lunch?”

“I’d be glad to stay, Kreacher,” she replied and looking towards the other three people in the room added, “If that’s all right with you, Harry?

“Um, yeah, sure,” said Harry.

Hermione was the next to find her voice, “Did anyone see you come in?” she asked urgently.

“No,” replied Azalea, knowing for certain that she was not seen.

“Good,” Hermione said, “the house is under constant watch. There are always two people hanging around outside. Different ones each day, we think they are Death Eaters, they’re certainly wizards judging by how they are dressed.”

“Why do you stay here?” asked Azalea moving into the room. She noticed that the table was covered with scrolls and floorplans.

“It’s better than the alternatives,” replied Harry.

“Which are?” prompted Azalea.

“Give ourselves up,” said Harry “which we will never do.”

“Or life on the run, a different place every night, never stopping, always with one eye looking behind you,” said Hermione. 

“Both impossible choices. Sirius told me how hard life on the run is.” Azalea smiled in remembrance, “He said, after fear of capture, the hardest thing for him was the lack of regular food. He never starved but he ate some terrible things to keep alive. I told him he was a spoilt rich boy if that was the worst he had to endure.” 

Kreacher came in and asked for the table to be cleared so he could set it out for lunch. Azalea noticed again the locket around his neck and it reminded her of another one. “Have any of you seen a locket while you’ve been here? It’s gold with a pattern like an S on it. Sirius gave it to me but I couldn’t find it when I left. I didn’t wear it that often because I felt uncomfortable if I wore it for any length of time. It’s clearly had some sort of spell on it but I could never work out how to get rid of it.”

The three friends exchanged looks before Harry said, “No, we haven’t seen it.”

“If you come across it could you let me have it back please, for sentimental reasons?”

“O.K.” replied Harry as he started to clear the table.

As they were eating lunch Azalea asked if they were going back to Hogwarts this term. “No, of course not,” Harry said. “I’m number one undesirable,”

“I’m an unregistered muggle born,” said Hermione

“And I’m a blood traitor” added Ron.

“Then what are you going to do?” Azalea asked looking intently at them one by one until finally Harry spoke.

“Dumbledore left us a mission.”

“What mission, can I help?” she asked.

“No, if Dumbledore had wanted you to help us, he would have asked you,” said Harry.

Azalea snorted, “I doubt it. He was a fine man, Dumbledore, but kept things close to his chest. Too close until it was too late and now we’ll never know what he would and wouldn’t have wanted.”

“But you’ve got Luke to look after,” Hermione pointed out, “You can’t leave him.”

“I would never do that,” said Azalea, “he is my first priority. If you do need my help just ask and I’ll do what I can.”

\--oOo—

It was the first day of a new term at Hogwarts and students had been arriving all day. Snape sat in the head teacher’s office beginning to have second thoughts about the wisdom of taking on the role. He had already called the first staff meeting and the attitude of the staff towards him was outright hostility. He could barely believe it - most of the staff were people he had lived and worked with for the past sixteen years. He had started the meeting by introducing the two new teachers - Alecto Carrow who would be teaching Muggle Studies and her brother, Amycus Carrow who was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The introductions were met with stony silence, Snape could hardly blame the rest of the staff for that reaction. He had not wanted the Carrows at Hogwarts but his expression of concern about their lack of teaching experience or qualification had been overridden by a newly convened appointment panel which was not obliged take into account the views of the head teacher. He had, however, been successful in getting them to allow Slughorn to be Slytherin House Leader rather than one of the Carrows, a small victory and received with polite acceptance by the staff. In the past, the first staff meeting of the year had been a convivial occasion, people exchanging views, sharing experiences, making suggestions for improvements for the coming year. This time – nothing - when Snape asked for suggestions nobody had any, when he made a proposal the only response was “as you wish headmaster.” The Carrows suggested a range of punishments for the students which made Umbridge look tame by comparison, no one else supported Snape’s condemnation of the ideas. It seemed that the entire staff were giving him the silent treatment. 

The welcoming feast was no better. The students trooped in sullen and quiet. With the requirement for compulsory schooling, pupil numbers had increased slightly but he noticed the absence of those he knew to be muggle born, but what choice did they have? If they returned to school they would be punished for “stealing magic”, if they didn’t come they would be arrested for truancy before being punished for “stealing magic”. The sorting ceremony was over in record time, it was as if even the sorting hat didn’t want to be there. After a child had been sorted, he or she was beckoned over to the relevant table and space made on the bench for them, there was none of the usual cheers and congratulations. Snape felt sorry for this year’s intake who would not have good memories of the sorting. Perhaps Azalea was right in her views about the pointlessness of sorting. He sighed, maybe he would introduce changes next year. After the sorting he stood up and introduced the new teachers and told of other staffing changes, all met with silence. He’d prepared a brief statement to tell the students about his hopes and aspirations for the year ahead and to encourage the students work hard for no one knew what the future held. Even as he said his words they sounded hollow and forced, when he’d finished there was a spattering of applause from the Slytherin table for which he was grateful. The food arrived and there was a murmur of conversation from the students but nothing like the enthusiastic hubbub there usually was. The meal finished, the students went to their common rooms and the new order at Hogwarts began the following day.

Snape sat in his office nursing a glass of wine, two things were good about being head teacher - the wine cellar was well stocked and the living quarters were significantly better than those of the potions teacher. There was even a private entrance so Azalea could come to stay and the portraits in the office would never know. One of the portraits who was watching him now, Phineas Nigellus Black, spoke, “It’s good to have a Slytherin head master back in charge after all these years.”

“Dumbledore always said you were the most disliked head master in recent Hogwarts history. If today is any indication of how my tenure will progress, I believe I will be challenging you for that title,” said Snape sourly.

“Don’t be lenient with the students would be my advice,” said Phineas, “Let them know who’s in charge and make sure you pin down bad behaviour. I would start with dragging back those three truants currently at Grimmauld Place.”

Snape slowly put down his glass of wine on the table, “Would that be Potter, Granger and Weasley?” he asked softly.

“Yes those students my great great grandson was so fond of.”

“Would you oblige me by going to your portrait at Grimmauld Place and try to ascertain their plans?” Snape asked with barely controlled anxiety. 

“Of course, Headmaster Snape,” replied Phineas, “You will need to catch them red handed for maximum punishment.” Phineas returned a few minutes later in an angry mood. “The Granger girl has taken my picture from the wall and stuffed it into a dark sack now I can neither hear nor see a thing that is going on.”

Trust Granger to think about that, Snape thought but said to Phineas, “Please visit the portrait at frequent intervals in case you hear anything that they are plotting.”

“Certainly headmaster,” replied Phineas before closing his eyes and feigning sleep. Snape took himself to his own quarters where through their mind link, he spoke to Azalea at length about his first, most unsatisfactory, day as head teacher of Hogwarts.

Snape’s early weeks as head teacher did not get any better. The days passed and he became increasingly isolated and lonely. The staff adopted an attitude of passive resistance and non-co-operation, much the same way they all had when Umbridge was the self-proclaimed head teacher. The Carrows had put their own interpretation on the subjects they taught and re-written the syllabus so that the Defence of the Dark Arts was now the practice of the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies was nothing but a poisonous rant about how the world’s troubles are all caused by muggles. Charity would have turned in her grave if she’d known how her work was being perverted. Over Snape’s objections, the school governors had given the Carrows the authority to enforce discipline. The other teachers were supposed to refer all errant pupils to the Carrows for punishment although they didn’t. If the reports of the other teachers were to be believed the students were all perfectly behaved, Snape did nothing to contradict that view. If he saved one student from unnecessary punishment it was worth it but unfortunately he could not save them all. 

Snape regularly discussed his ideas and methods with Dumbledore’s portrait but the former headmaster mostly agreed that Snape was doing the best he could in difficult circumstances. Snape had told Dumbledore that he knew the whereabouts of Potter, Granger and Weasley and also had a potential way of tracking them. Dumbledore said “Excellent news, Severus. Now we have to put the next stage of my plan into action.”

“What stage is that?” Snape asked.

“You must give them the Sword of Gryffindor.”

“I’ll just package it up and send it by owl shall I?” Snape replied sarcastically.

“You know it doesn’t work like that. Harry needs to perform an act of bravery to gain it.”

“I’ll send it by dragon then – that should put up a fight.”

“You are getting ahead of yourself Severus, before you send it out, you must make a copy of the sword so that no one knows it’s missing.” Dumbledore said patiently.

“Copy the sword of Gryffindor – whatever for? No one ever sees it – it’s locked up here in this office, who would know it is gone?” Snape pointed out.

“You must cover all eventualities. You need to be able to produce it should you be asked.”

Snape rose to the challenge. It gave him another focus and took his mind off his constant worry about the students and his role as a double agent. Transfiguration was the way to do it but that was not his area of expertise, Minerva was far more knowledgeable than he was in that discipline of magic but he couldn’t come straight out and ask her. He discussed it that night with Azalea and she said she’d give it some thought. How he wished she was really lying beside him in the bed but their mind link was the next best thing. 

The following evening he was patrolling the corridors as he often did to try to intercept any of the students, such as Goyle and Crabbe, who enthusiastically embraced the new culture of discipline, from carrying out such disciplinary actions. Today he was in the Gryffindor corridor and as he passed Minerva’s office he was certain he heard a baby’s cry. He stopped by the door to her office just as it opened and out walked Minerva accompanied by Azalea who was holding Luke. To cover his surprise at seeing them he said, “I see you have visitors, Professor McGonagall.”

Minerva’s dislike of him was clearly shown on her face and she replied scathingly, “Is having visitors now against the rules, Headmaster? What punishment is meted out for that?”

Azalea saw Severus wince slightly at Minerva’s words and he replied, “Provided that your visitor registered in the visitor book upon arrival then the rules have been complied with.”

Severus saw Azalea gesture with her free hand that wasn’t holding Luke and she said, “That has been done.”

“Then I will detain you no longer,” he said. “Miss Bennett report to me before you leave,” he commanded and swept off down the corridor.

“You’d better see him before you go,” said Minerva, “he will no doubt want to know why you are here. He is like a spider sitting at the centre of a web of lies and reeling in those unfortunate enough to touch one of the sticky threads.”

Severus had been waiting impatiently for Azalea to come to him before she left. When he heard her coming up the spiral staircase he rushed to the top of it and directed her to his private quarters and away from the prying eyes of the portraits. Once inside he kissed her like a starving man in need of food. “You can’t stay long,” he told her. “The visitor book is checked and all your time here has to be accounted for. Much as I would love you to remain all night it is impossible. Why did you come to see Minerva?”

“I needed some help with my healer studies,” she replied. “We recently had a case of transmogrification and I wanted more information on how it occurs and how to deal with it.”

“Transmogrification?” he asked, “That term is unfamiliar to me.”

“It’s an advanced type of transfiguration and only those people most experienced in the method should attempt to do it. Transmogrification will permanently change one thing into another, unlike transfiguration where the change is often temporary or reversible. The results of a transmogrified item are often indistinguishable from the real thing. Minerva showed me how it is done,” Azalea explained. “Now, if you could find me something that is sword shaped and approximately the same dimensions as the sword of Gryffindor, I might be able to make a copy so accurate that only the maker would know is a fake.”

Severus’ face lit up with delight at the elegant solution and he kissed her again. “I’ll be back shortly,” he said, “There are plenty of suits of armour holding swords around the castle one of them will do.” He returned with the real sword of Gryffindor and a plain steel one which was of similar dimensions. 

Azalea put the two swords side by side and drew out her wand. “This is difficult magic,” she said, “I’ll need my wand. As a precaution could you take Luke away and make sure he stays behind me, you too – I would hate anything to happen to either of you. And Severus, don’t interfere whatever happens, it looks worse than it feels.”

Severus took Luke from his pram where he had been sitting watching them and held him so they could both see what was going on. He stood by the door so he could rush outside with the baby in case anything went wrong. Azalea composed herself, closed her eyes to visualise the colours of the magic only she could see, she spoke the incantation aloud and pointed her wand at the real sword. A silver stream poured out of the end of the wand and made contact with the sword, as he watched he saw gold light seep out of the sword colouring the end of the silver stream, slowly the silver turned to gold working its way up from the sword into the wand. When the stream of magic had completely changed colour, Azalea quickly shifted it to the plain steel sword, she placed her free hand on the sword of Gryffindor and spoke another incantation. The gold colour of the stream of magic ebbed into the steel sword, this time the colour draining from the end nearest the wand until the stream from the wand was silver once again. Saying a third incantation Azalea placed the tip of her wand so it made contact with the steel sword, her body stiffened as if she had been electrocuted and an aura of silver and gold glowed around her body for a few seconds, before she relaxed and stumbled backwards, trembling from the exertion and all the colours returned to normal. Severus rushed over to her and grabbed her one handed, the other one still holding Luke. Azalea held on to Severus, using him for support to steady herself. “I’m OK,” she said, “I’m fine. Did it work?”

They both looked at the results, two identical looking swords lay before them. “You are the most wonderful woman and most talented witch I have ever met,” said Severus pulling her closer to his side. “If you weren’t already married I’d ask you to marry me.”

She smiled at him and said, “If I wasn’t already married I’d say yes.”

Feeling ignored Luke made a small squeak to get his parents’ attention back to him. They both laughed and obliged. Severus asked, “Your patient at St Mungo’s who was transmogrified, can you heal him?”

“I don’t need to – he wasn’t transmogrified - I could tell that just by looking, he had been transfigured and we were able to return him to his usual self” Azalea replied. “It was still worth talking to Minerva, in case I ever come across a real case, now I know what I’m looking for.”


	73. Swords and Shares

After Azalea and Luke had left Hogwarts, Snape took the fake sword and replaced it in the glass cabinet in the head teachers’ office. Gryffindor’s sword was the only artefact from the original founders of the school that was still in the school and the head teacher’s office was considered to be the safest place to keep it. Slytherin’s pendant, the Hufflepuff cup and the diadem of Ravenclaw had long since disappeared. Snape left the real sword in his bedroom buried amongst his clothes in his wardrobe, he was fairly certain that the house elves did not need to open that when cleaning his quarters but he would need to find somewhere else to keep it soon.

His need came sooner than he had expected. Since the beginning of term, some of the students had been engaging in low level insubordination, the most recent had been graffiti on the walls, slogans such as “Dumbledore’s Army – Still Recruiting,” and “Harry’s our Hero”, or Snape’s favourite “Amycus is a lump of pus – discuss”. Every time such graffiti appeared he would express his displeasure to the assembled students at dinner time. He would exhort the teachers and students to let him have information pertaining to the perpetrators but no one ever came to him about it. He would have been disappointed if they had, he admired the loyalty of the students to one another and would have hated to subject them to the discipline of the Carrows. 

One day the students went too far and he was unable to ignore the prank. He was in his chambers when he heard the sound of glass smashing, the only room close to his was his office. He rushed down the stairs and saw three students – Longbottom, Lovegood and Ginny Weasley, struggling to carry the (fake) sword of Gryffindor down the narrow spiral staircase. “Stop right there!” he said authoritatively. The three stopped at once and he walked slowly down the stairs towards them. “What exactly are you doing?” he asked in a calm, silky voice. None of them responded. “Back upstairs into my office. IMMEDIATELY!” The students retraced their steps and returned to his office. “Replace the sword in the cabinet” he instructed them. Once that was done he flourished his wand over the cabinet and the glass was repaired. He returned his attention to the three students standing defiantly in front of him.

“Who do you think you are that you can enter my office and steal valuable school artefacts?” he asked quietly.

“We’re Gryffindors and we have more right to the sword than you do!” declared Longbottom. 

“I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts, in case you have forgotten. I have both the right and the authority to look after the artefacts and the students within the school.” Snape said in an overly controlled calm tone. He heard a sound at the door, with their unerring sense of bad timing, standing in the doorway were the Carrows. The expressions on their faces were in anticipation of a treat.

“Do you want me to Cruciate them headmaster?” asked Amycus, drawing his wand and pointing it at Ginny.

“That will not be necessary, Carrow.” Snape replied keeping the revulsion from his voice, “Such a punishment would be over too quickly, I have something different in mind. Something that will make them feel fear for several hours.” He stared at the students, no expression on his face. “You will go with Professor Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest and assist him with his work there. You will do this every day for a week. Do you understand?”

“Yes Headmaster Snape,” mumbled Ginny in apparent contrition, stealing a glance at her companions. The small grins they exchanged with one another did not go unnoticed by Snape.

He dismissed them all from the office and sat down heavily on the chair by the desk. How had they managed to get into his office? Was even the building working against him? Dumbledore’s portrait spoke sharply to him, “You almost lost the sword, Severus; you need to get the fake made as soon as possible. You should have already done it.”

“It is already done,” Snape snapped back, “that is the fake.”

“Is it?” said Dumbledore in surprise, “It is a convincing copy - you have excelled yourself. Where is the real sword?”

“In my quarters, whilst I seek somewhere more secure to keep it.”

“I have already organised that, pull on the left side of my portrait.” Snape did as requested and the portrait swung open to reveal a hidden cavity behind it which was just large enough to hold a sword. 

Snape gave a short burst of laughter, “You had better hope we never get burgled by muggles,” he said, “behind a portrait is an obvious place for secret compartments in the muggle world.”

“Muggles don’t have my portrait to protect it” said Dumbledore defensively. Snape fetched the sword and put it in the space behind the portrait. It was now Dumbledore’s responsibility to keep it safe.

Snape’s problems with the sword were still not over. The Carrows had wasted no time in telling Voldemort about the attempted theft of the sword and Snape was summoned to speak to the Dark Lord.

“It was careless of you Severus, to allow the sword to be taken,” Voldemort said.

“I successfully stopped and detained the thieves, my lord,” replied Snape, “it was merely a prank by some students.”

“Even so, the sword could be used a rallying point for rebels. Whilst I have no doubt that we would defeat such rebels, it is best not to give them the opportunity to defy me. The sword must be put somewhere beyond reach of pranksters or serious thieves,” Voldemort said. 

Snape was gratified to note that the Dark Lord was not going to make an example of him for a perceived failing, whatever personal mission Voldemort was on, it must be going well. “Do you have somewhere in mind, my lord?” he asked.

“Bellatrix has offered me the use of her vault in Gringotts. It will go there.”

“I will ensure that your wishes are carried out at once, my lord,” Snape said, bowing and taking his leave before Voldemort had a change of plan. 

\--oOo—

Azalea had received a request from Mr Gringott at the bank for her to come and see him. She collected Luke from the nursery and made her way to the bank after work. Her last visit had been around a year ago and she had kept her word about not doing anything or telling anyone about the shares she had in the bank. The other investments Sirius had left her in his will were performing well and she’d had no need to call on the Gringotts shares. She met Mr Gringott in the same office she had been to last time, deep underground. 

“Miss Bennett,” he began, “Things have changed since we last met.”

“Significantly,” she agreed, “The Ministry of Magic has been taken over by the Dark Lord’s supporters, the muggle born are ostracised, murder and destruction abound.”

Mr Gringott waved away her description, “Those are wizard affairs, of little interest to goblins. The change I am concerned with is the change to the bank. Last time we spoke I told you of the delicate balance of power within the ownership of the bank, where I hold 48% and my cousins 47%.” She nodded her recollection and he continued, “My cousins still have sympathy with the views of the wizard leading the Death Eaters. To me their views are their own, except where it interferes with the management and profitability of the bank. Recently they have forced through many changes by using the 1% share held by the Malfoys and the 1% held by the Gaunt family of whom their leader is the sole heir. However, their latest proposition is unacceptable. They have been driving out many of my most trusted and experienced staff, treating them like house elves to do the bidding of the wizards. My cousins go along with these ideas because they expect to be in control of the bank as a reward for their co-operation.”

“I fear they are badly mistaken, if they believe a word of the Dark Lord’s promises. Once he has what he needs he won’t think twice about betrayal,” Azalea said. “But why are you still here, if that’s not an impertinent question, they could have forced you out weeks ago?”

“They wish me to be a witness to my own fall from power. It is certain that my removal from the board is imminent. That is why I need to call on your help now. I want you to stand and vote with me against all proposals, the three percent you hold will change the course of the future of Gringotts.”

Azalea did not reply immediately and looked over at her son, lying in his pram looking at the play of the lights on the intricate patterns of the metal lampshades. Mr Gringott followed her gaze and knew what she was thinking, he was a father himself and goblins loved their children as much as wizards loved theirs. “You fear for your child, if you take this step,” he stated.

“Yes, I do,” she said, “If I do as you suggest, I will make myself known the Dark Lord, he will have no hesitation in destroying me and mine.”

“If you don’t do as I suggest, the Death Eaters will overrun the bank, they will have access to untold funds and no one will be safe.”

“How do I know that the board of the bank will follow the proposals we suggest if I stand with you?” she asked, “they could ignore it and still follow the path set by the Dark Lord.”

Mr Gringott smiled, it did not improve the look of his face, “You clearly don’t understand the goblin psyche,” he said. “We are slaves to protocol and lawful decisions. Once the decision is made and recognised within our constitution we will implement the decision.”

“But there will always be grey areas and loopholes in any legal framework,” Azalea said. 

“Yes, that is part of the game too,” he agreed, “but it takes time to find them, which gives us the opportunity to be one step ahead.” He had on his desk a copy of the document detailing the Black family’s share of the bank. “Sirius Black left his house and contents to Harry Potter, did he not?” asked Mr Gringott.

“Yes, that is quite well known,” agreed Azalea.

“How many people know he left property to you?”

“A few, not many. Why?”

“The leader of the Death Eaters pursues Harry Potter and wishes him dead,” said Mr Gringott. “To use a muggle expression perhaps he might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.”

“What do you mean exactly?” Azalea said with an inkling as to where this might be leading.

“We could give the impression that Black also left these shares to Harry Potter and it is Potter who is exercising his right to vote. That way you would not make yourself known to the Death Eaters and you could protect your child for a little longer.”

“But I couldn’t do that to Harry.” Azalea protested.

“It is your decision, Miss Bennett and I fear whatever you decide you will lose something.”

“Let me see the proposals you wish me to support and I’ll let you have my decision soon.”

“It will need to be very soon Miss Bennett, or events will overtake us and there will be no decision to make. I need an answer by tomorrow morning.”

Azalea left the bank and made her way across London to Grimmauld Place so she could speak to Harry before she made any decision. She still had Luke with her and did not apparate into the house. Instead, she cast a disillusionment charm over the pair of them when they reached Grimmauld Place. The first thing she noticed when she arrived in the square was the absence of Death Eaters observers. She opened the front door of the house and cautiously entered pulling in the pram behind her. Leaving it by the door she walked softly down the corridor. The house had an air of emptiness about it. The tongue-tie curse was gone, as was the spectre of Dumbledore. Mrs Black’s portrait had been blasted from the wall, now only fragments of plaster scattered over the floor. Reluctant to leave Luke on his own she went back and picked him out of the pram, carrying him in one arm and her wand in the other. She opened the door the kitchen and descended the stairs. The room no longer gleamed as it had on her last visit, a thin film of dust was covering the surfaces and looked as if it had not been touched for weeks. “Kreacher,” she called out softly.

She heard a slight popping sound and Kreacher appeared in front of her. He was still wearing the white towel he’d had on last time she came, but now it was grubby and his hair, once again unkempt. “My lady,” he said and to her immense surprise put his arms around her and sobbed. She let him cry himself out and when he had calmed down she asked him what had happened.

“Master Harry and his friends is gone. Kreacher heard them planning to steal a locket from the Ministry of Magic but they didn’t come back. The Death Eaters came inside the house and tore it apart, even my mistress’s portrait is destroyed. Kreacher try to stop them but they beat him and burn him with bad magic,” he told her forlornly.

“Let me see what they’ve done to you,” she said. Kreacher showed her the bruises and half healed burns and cuts. She summoned the pram from the corridor and put Luke back in it whist she healed the injuries to Kreacher. “The Death Eaters must have got inside the Fidelius Charm’s protection.” she said as she worked, “meaning this house is no longer safe for Harry. I’ll reset the charm before I go so that no one else can get in. Do you have any idea where Harry went?”

“No, my lady. Kreacher hear Miss Granger say she has a tent in her little bag. Maybe they in that?”

“They could be anywhere, I have no idea where or how to find them.” She finished treating Kreacher’s injuries, then reset the Fidelius Charm. She asked Kreacher if he wanted to stay in the house or come home with her. He elected to stay in the house so it would be ready for Master Potter when he came back. Azalea said she’d ask Winky to drop by from time to time to make sure he was all right and to keep him company. 

Later that night at home Azalea studied the Gringotts proposals, which were that the bank could set its own charges for use of it services and a usurious rate was proposed, anyone who tried to remove their money and possessions from the vaults to avoid the charges would have a hefty fine imposed. The only group exempt were proven pure-bloods – generally the most wealthy of the wizards, with some notable exceptions like the Weasley family. The money raised was to go to an account called the “Peace Account” which was anything but peaceful and was to be used for funding the war. From a business point of view it was madness but for the majority of bank customers their income and wealth would be slashed leading to poverty for many. She supposed the Death Eater rationale was that an impoverished population was easier to control or bribe. 

Azalea agonised over the moral dilemma she had about the voting shares she owned. She did not want to implicate Harry without his agreement and looking at the proposals she could not simply do nothing. If she voted with Mr Gringott, the ministry of magic could simply pass a law that required the bank to impose charges and fines. Mr Gringott had told her that although goblins were bound by the law, that meant goblin laws and regulations and did not apply to wizard laws. If the ministry tried such a manoeuvre Mr Gringott was certain that even his cousins would not accept it and the Death Eaters would find themselves at war with the goblins as well as the civil war with the wizards. There would no chance of the Death Eaters obtaining funding through the bank. It was a better strategy to get change from within the bank’s own rules.

Azalea reached the conclusion that whatever the risk she had to stand up for her beliefs and the welfare of a large part of society and she would vote with Mr Gringott. The next day she did so.

She returned to work after casting her vote. Luke was safe in the nursery and she had a meeting with her training supervisor. She met her supervisor in his office. “Azalea,” he began, “I’m glad to hear that you’ve settled back into work after your maternity leave. Your tutors tell me you’ve not fallen behind with your studies.”

“No, I kept up the reading whilst I was off. I didn’t want to miss too much while I was away,” she replied.

“That’s good,” he said. “There’s one thing you did miss while you were away and that was a placement outside of the hospital. As part of healer training we like to give our trainees practical experience outside of a hospital setting. You spend one day a week at the hospital but the remainder of your working week will be at your placement.”

“I knew that was part of the training curriculum, it sounds interesting. What choice of placement do I have?” she asked.

“I’m afraid that you don’t have a choice, there is only one establishment that has space and, not to put too fine a point on it, a need for additional help.”

“Where’s that?” asked Azalea already wondering how she was going to organise child care for Luke.

“It Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Normally it’s a popular choice but with recent events there no one volunteered this year,” he explained. “You’ll also be required to help out with any medical needs at Hogsmeade village.”

Azalea couldn’t have been more delighted with the choice, even it was Hobson’s choice. She would be near Severus; Luke would be well looked after by Winky and the other house elves; she’d be close to information about the Death Eaters and would, hopefully, be able to get advance warning if she was in danger due to her support of Gringotts; she’d see her friends again and she’d be able to help and support Severus in his clandestine actions against the Carrows and his protection of the students. 

“When do I start?” she asked her voice not betraying her mood.

“The week after next. I will have to inform the Headmaster but he is obliged to accept who ever we send because the previous Headmaster had already signed the agreement.”


	74. Team Work

Snape was not best pleased when St Mungo’s hospital sent him an owl to remind him of the school’s commitment to take on a trainee healer for a work experience placement. He was furious when he found out who it was.

He apparated at once to Azalea’s house and confronted her. “Of all the places you could have gone – why choose Hogwarts?! Don’t you know how dangerous it is there? It’s difficult enough for me to protect the students without anyone knowing, now I’ll have to protect you too!”

“And Luke,” Azalea said mildly.

“NO!” he shouted, “You are not bringing my son into danger as well.”

“I can hardly leave him here, can I?” she said reasonably. “I know Winky would look after him but her presence in my house is secret. Social Services would be down on me like a ton of bricks if they thought I’d left him on his own in the house.”

“You know that’s not what I meant, don’t deliberately misunderstand me,” he said in exasperation. “Neither of you should come to Hogwarts. I will not allow it,” he told her firmly.

Azalea went very quiet and he could feel the air turn noticeably colder. “Firstly,” she said in a restrained tone, “work experience placements are a requirement of my training. Secondly I did not choose to come to Hogwarts it was the only place left. Thirdly, you don’t have to protect me – I can protect myself. Fourthly, we can both protect Luke. Fifthly, there is danger wherever I go. If I’m going to face danger then I’d rather face it with you than on my own. Finally,” she said so quietly he almost couldn’t hear her but he could see red flashes darting all over her eyes. “Finally, don’t you ever, and I mean EVER, try to forbid me from doing something again!”

He held his breath, since the frozen soul incident she was capable of losing control, although she rarely did. He calmed his mind in the way he so was so practiced in and backed down in the face of her anger. “Azalea, I apologise. I should have got the facts before I said anything, I was unaware that you had no choice but to come to Hogwarts.” In his mind he thought, but you did have a choice – you could have chosen not to come. He had learned then when you loved someone there were occasions when things were better left unsaid. He took a step towards her, she stayed where she was and the flashes in her eyes slowed down, he was forcibly reminded of her relationship to Voldemort and how his eyes would go redder when he was angry. It must be a family trait. But her green eyes were clearly from her mother’s side of the family. No wonder he had fallen so hard for her – she was a combination of the first woman he had loved and the man he’d admired when he was a teenager for his power and confidence. But they had both let him down, Lily had rejected him and Voldemort had broken his promise. He would never give Azalea a reason to let him down.  


Azalea had been observing him and as he stepped towards her she could see thoughts and emotions reflected in his facial expression, she wondered what thoughts were going through his head but didn’t intrude. She was calming down after her flight into anger and she knew how close she’d got to losing control. Her reaction (perhaps an overreaction) to Severus’ words had triggered it but it was him who was bringing her back, as he had brought her back from her coma. She stepped into his arms and he held her gently, relieved that the moment had passed. She looked into his face and said smiling, “There is one thing you can forbid me to do - you can forbid me to never stop loving you.”  


Azalea and Luke moved up to Hogwarts. Azalea and Severus both knew it would be impossible for her to live in the head master’s quarters with him. As the next best thing Severus had anticipated her desire to go back to the guest quarters she’d stayed in when she first came to Hogwarts, the one behind Sophia’s portrait. He enlarged the chambers to make room for Luke with the addition of an extra bedroom and a small kitchen. There was even an alcove for Fawkes’ perch. “Hogwarts is a place of magic,” he told her. “Alterations to the accommodation are easy to arrange.”  


Azalea was welcomed back by the staff as a long lost friend, but she soon noticed the change in atmosphere at the school. Instead of the happy, boisterous and loud school she remembered, silence, suspicion and fear had infected the students and staff. On her first day she sat at the teachers’ table and was introduced by the Headmaster, there was a spattering of polite applause from a few students and most of the staff. She sat in her old place next to Filius and was acutely aware of the absence of Charity. She conversed with Filius during dinner but there was none of the levity they used to enjoy. Madan Pomfey sat the other side of her to tell her about the organisation of the hospital wing. Azalea noticed that Severus was isolated at the far end of the table flanked by the Carrow siblings, they looked more like his prison guards than his staff. Amycus and Alecto Carrow were both of stocky appearance. Azalea heard the sound of their laughter travel down the table – a wheezy giggle that must be a family trait. Whatever the source of their amusement it was clearly not shared by Severus who sat stony faced and picking at his food. Amycus was lumpy looking and had a lopsided leer which he employed when he looked at Azalea, making her feel extremely uncomfortable, she absently touched the pendant to protect against unwanted attention which she still wore around her neck. 

It wasn’t long before Azalea had a full understanding of how bad things were at Hogwarts. The school infirmary was constantly busy with students coming with injuries obtained by the punishments meted out by the Carrows. Amycus told the older students that they should practice the Cruciatus Curse on people who’d earned detentions. Once the other teachers and Severus learned this they stopped giving detentions but the Carrows would give a detention for the slightest thing – such as school uniform infringements; smiling or not smiling (as the situation demanded); walking too quickly; walking too slowly; being found outside of their common room after hours; the list went on. 

After Azalea had been at Hogwarts for about two weeks, Neville Longbottom came to the infirmary with a particularly large gash on his cheek which was bleeding profusely and was cut almost the bone. “Neville, how did you get that?” she asked in shock as she stopped the bleeding and started to heal the cut.

“Amycus Carrow: I refused to use the Cruciatus curse on a first year who was in detention, so Carrow did this to me as an example to other sixth formers who won’t carry out punishments.”

“Neville, this can’t be allowed to continue. I’ll speak to the Headmaster about reining them in. This is a school for goodness sake, not a prison camp,” she told him.

Neville snorted in derision, “Snape – that murderer. He’s a Death Eater. Do you think he cares about a few students who won’t toe the line his master has told him to follow?”

Azalea’s heart broke for Severus when she heard this assessment of his character, if only they knew the truth but she could say nothing in his defence. “Neville,” she said, “This injury to your face, I can heal it so it leaves no scar but we need some evidence about the atrocities that have been happening here in the name of education. Do you mind if I leave a scar? I can heal the pain and bind together the broken flesh and blood vessels so it won’t become infected. That way you’ll be a walking testament to the evils of the Carrows.”

Neville regarded her levelly, she thought how much he has changed from the quiet and nervous boy he was when she first arrived at Hogwarts. She had no doubt that he was one of the ringleaders, along with Luna and Ginny, for the covert disruptive activities that occurred from time to time. “Yes, Miss Bennett, I will wear my scar with pride.” She continued working on the wound and he said, “Could you do the same for anyone who comes in? You know, take away the pain and the infection but leave evidence of injury?”

“If they want me to I can, but some things, like bruising, would fade of its own accord.”

“That’s O.K” said Neville, “but you are right about evidence. Madam Pomfrey had been doing far too good a job in patching us up! – It looks as if the Carrows aren’t touching us at all. When Harry comes back and defeats You Know Who, we will be ready.”

Azalea spoke to Severus about the brutality of the Carrows towards the students that evening. They were in her chambers and had just put Luke to bed. “You’ve got to do something about the Carrows,” she told him. “Do you know how easily they dish out punishment and how much they seem to enjoy it?”

“I do know, Leah and I do my best to stop their worst excesses. I have tried to tell them not to be so viscous, that these are children not criminals. The Carrows laugh in my face saying that the Dark Lord would be pleased with their efforts to tame the wildness out of the students and to make sure that they grow up understanding that the Dark Lord is their master. The only person the Carrows would listen to about this is the Dark Lord himself. But I can’t go to him about it. He trusts me to keep things running here and would not appreciate being asked to intervene, not only would it undermine his confidence in me but I fear it would make matters worse. He may remove me from the school entirely and put one of the Carrows in my place. What can I do Leah?” he appealed, “There isn’t a way I can’t follow the Carrows round all day and know their every move!” 

Azalea’s eyes lit up, “Oh yes there is!” she said and ran into the bedroom. She returned a couple of minutes later and handed him a floor plan of the school. He took it with a perplexed expression. Azalea tapped her wand it and said, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good”. At once he could see tiny footprints appear on the floorplan, next to them were written names. He had seen something like this once before, Lupin had it when he was the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. “It’s a map showing where everyone in the school is located right now. Look, here you are and Luke” – she pointed to their names on the map. “That’s odd,” she said, “My name’s here too.”

“You are in the same room as me,” Severus said, fascinated by the detail on the map.

“I know, but I’ve never appeared on it before.”

“How long have you had this?” he asked.

“Oh, a couple of years, Sirius and I made it during the Triwizard Tournament. The password was his suggestion. I’ve meant to change it but never quite got around to it. Let’s see where the Carrows are.” She demonstrated the search function to him and they could see the Carrows alone in their own rooms. “At least the students are safe from them tonight.”

“Azalea, this is wonderful. Now I can keep an eye on the Carrows and get to them first if I think they are about to go too far.”

“You borrow it Severus, until I have an opportunity to make another one. But promise me one thing.”

“Name it,” he replied.

“Don’t use the map to entrap the students, especially Neville. If you think they’re in danger then take action but the students are fighting against the Carrows in their own way. Let them continue, it gives the hope to the other students.”

Snape used the map to spy on the Carrows. One of their favourite tricks was to seek out large gatherings of students and accuse them of rule breaking – often a rule the Carrows made up on the spot. To the Carrows’ way of thinking this justified the punishment of every one present. To try to stop this and reduce the number of punishments, Snape re-introduced one of Umbridge’s decrees that gatherings of more than three students were forbidden as were unofficial student societies. The Carrows took the opportunity to complain to him about this. 

“Surely, Alecto and Amycus,” Snape explained, “we don’t want to encourage the students to plot and share ideas which might go against the views of the Dark Lord? In your classes you have ample opportunity to teach them the Dark Lord’s ways. You are, after all, here to teach classes.”

“That new ‘ealer,” said Amycus changing the subject.

“What of her?” asked Snape quietly.

“She ain’t very good. The students is all covered in bruises and cuts even after they’ve seen her.”

“She is still a trainee healer,” said Snape emphasising the word “trainee” although he knew full well the level of Azalea’s ability. “If you two were less inclined to punish so freely and so severely there would be no cuts and bruises and we would have no need for a trainee healer.

“We’re carrying out the Dark Lord’s work,” said Alecto in a sanctimonious voice reminiscent of Bellatrix. 

“There is no need to carry it out quite so enthusiastically,” snapped Snape, “or with such obvious enjoyment.

“It’s the only thing what makes this job worthwhile,” said Amycus and the siblings sauntered away.

The autumn term finally drew to a close much to Snape’s relief. From the comments he overheard from the students it was a relief for them to go home too and none of them were staying at school over the Christmas break. Since Azalea’s work experience placement at Hogwarts his life had been a little easier, knowing that she was there to give him comfort and support when the situation became too much for him, without her he didn’t know how he could ever had coped with the intense dislike and hatred that everyone had for him. Azalea was the only person to ever give him a kind word or have a meaningful conversation with him. The staff and students spoke to him only when necessary and then only in monosyllables or brief sentences, the exception were the Carrows who would drone on at length about the shortcomings of the students and the plans they had to correct their behaviour but Snape would willingly have forgone their conversation. That Azalea and he had managed to conceal their relationship was a marvel to him but Azalea said it was because nobody was looking for it. Sophia must have wondered why the headmaster visited the trainee healer so often in her private quarters but she never said anything – it was one of the duties of a guardian portrait to keep such details to herself. 

On the last day of term he watched the Hogwarts train pulled away from Hogsmeade station. As headmaster, Snape was required to see them away. Azalea had come too, pushing Luke in his pram, saying he needed the fresh air and she wanted to be on hand to deal with any last minute emergencies. Some of the students had asked her to completely heal any injuries they still had because they didn’t want to unnecessarily worry their families when they went home for the Christmas holidays. The train departed in a cloud of steam, Azalea and Severus walked side by side back to the school in companionable silence until Azalea asked, “What are we doing this Christmas?” It was a subject that they had up to now avoided.

“I need to stay here,” Severus said. “Who knows what could happen if I left?”

“Are any other staff remaining?” she asked. 

“I think they’re all away. Even the Carrows are going, they’ve invited themselves to stay at Malfoy Manor so they can see the Dark Lord. Perhaps not Hagrid, he lives here so I expect he’ll still be here,” Severus said.

“Not all the time, he’s spending a few days over Christmas with Maxine,” interjected Azalea.

“In that case it’s just me and the house elves,” he concluded.

“I’ll stay,” she said. “I have to work full time at St Mungos during school holidays but I’ve got some leave owing. I’ll take a week’s holiday between Christmas and New Year.”

“I’d love you to stay Leah, but any sign of danger and you’ll go home,” he said earnestly.

“My home is where you are Severus, I am home.”

He felt a warm glow of affection at her words. “Go to your house in Stevenage,” he clarified.

“All right. I’ll agree to that.” By now they had reached the door to the school, Severus helped to lift Luke’s pram up the steps and they went in to the entrance hall. The hour glasses showing the house points glittered in the candlelight but somehow which house won the house cup at the end of the year was of no consequence given the dark days they were living in. “Do you think that Luke will be able to come to Hogwarts? That it will be the bright and happy place it once was?” she asked.

“I hope so, I don’t want all of this to be for nothing,” he replied. “If I’m still headmaster, there will be changes for the better. The first thing I’ll do is get rid of sorting students into houses by way of personality traits.”

“You could get rid of the houses altogether,” she suggested.

“No, I won’t do that, competition is good for students. They need to learn how to lose as well as how to win. I’ll also rename the houses, we’ll have Dumbledore House...”

“Potter House,” she suggested.

“Mmm I suppose so, he is making a contribution,” said Severus grudgingly.

“Granger and Weasley Houses for the other two,” she said.

“No, I’d call one Bennett House.”

“And the other one Snape House,” she finished quickly, laughing and linking her arm through his as they went up to his quarters.

A few hours later they received bad news. Death Eaters had invaded the Hogwarts train and kidnapped Luna Lovegood. It was almost certainly to keep her father from encouraging support for Harry through the Quibbler, a magazine that he published. Azalea was horrified when she found out. “The students aren’t even safe on the train. Did you have any idea this was going to happen?”

“No,” Severus assured her, “No idea at all. I’m kept so busy here that I don’t go to the Death Eaters headquarters as much as I used to. Plus the Dark Lord is away seeking something he believes will make him invincible. If I had known Luna was in danger I would arranged another way home for her.” He paced around the room in agitation for his inability to help. He spoke again, “Do you know she was one of the ringleaders for the disruption by students this term.”

“Who are the others?” asked Azalea, although she knew full well who they were.

“Ginny Weasley and Longbottom,” he said which confirmed her knowledge.

“Neville has certainly risen to the challenge,” she said, “cometh the hour, cometh the man.”

“I know, I’m proud of him,” he said and she could hear that he meant it. “But I wish he wouldn’t take such risks. I often wondered how they communicate, they always seem to be one step ahead of me.”

“If the Death Eaters can do it I suppose others must,” Azalea observed. She didn’t tell him about the fake galleons she noticed Luna, Ginny and Neville all carried - which had a Protean Charm on them so when one was altered all the others did too - some secrets weren’t hers to share.


	75. The Forest of Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Azalea help Harry to obtain the sword of Gryfindor and destroy a horcrux.

Severus and Azalea spent a quiet Christmas day together at Hogwarts. They had received gifts from Lucy, Mrs Thompson, Beryl and Azalea’s muggle friends. Most of the presents were for Luke, although like most babies he enjoyed playing with the wrapping paper more than the items that had come in them. Azalea eventually spoiled his fun by throwing away the paper when he was trying to eat it rather than play with it. He grizzled a little until he was mollified by Severus lying on the floor with him and playing at stacking blocks and pushing buttons on a flashing toy car. As fast as Severus stacked the blocks Luke would knock them down. Azalea sat on the sofa watching them lovingly and for a few short hours that day they pushed their troubles away and acted as the family they were, celebrating their child’s first Christmas.

Following Snape’s request for Phineas to drop in on Potter from time to time, the former headmaster had continued to do so. The times he was able to speak to the fugitives were controlled by them and he was obliged to wear a blindfold. He let slip small snippets of information about life at Hogwarts but Potter was not willing to listen to Phineas telling him what a fine headmaster Severus Snape was. He tried to ask leading questions about where Potter was but he was not subtle enough and would be unceremoniously pushed back into the bag. In spite of the lack of information Snape, and by extension Azalea, were relieved just to know that Potter was still alive. 

On Boxing Day, however, Phineas came into his portrait in the headmaster’s office in a state of excitement. Luckily Snape was in the office at the time, “They’re in the Forest of Dean,” he said excitedly, “the Granger girl mentioned the place as she opened her bag and I heard her!”

“Good. Very good!” cried the portrait of Dumbledore behind the headmaster’s chair. “Now, Severus, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valour — and he must not know that you give it! If Voldemort should read Harry’s mind and see you acting for him —”

“I know,” said Snape curtly taking the sword from behind the portrait. “And you still aren’t going to tell me why it’s so important to give Potter the sword?” said Snape.

“No, I don’t think so,” said Dumbledore’s portrait. “He will know what to do with it. And Severus, be very careful, they may not take kindly to your appearance after George Weasley’s mishap —”

Snape turned at the door. “Don’t worry, Dumbledore,” he said coolly. “I have a plan. …” 

The first part of his plan involved consulting with Azalea. He didn’t even know where the Forest of Dean was. 

“It’s in Gloucestershire,” she told him, “it’s huge and covers about 35 square miles; finding one small tent in it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. We need to narrow it down. Is there such a thing as a scrying spell to locate them?”

“If only there were,” he answered. “Then nothing would ever be lost or hidden. It can only be done if the thing or person you seek has been marked beforehand.”

“Then we’ll have to do it the hard way,” she answered. “We know from Phineas that they set wards and protection so I’ll be able to see the magic, we’re going to have to fly over the forest and look for traces of magic.”

They left Luke in the care of the house elves. Despite Azalea’s dislike of travel by broom the most efficient way to search was for them to share a broomstick, with Severus in control of flying, whilst Azalea had her hands free to use a pair of binoculars to search for signs of magic. They dressed in winter clothes including gloves and hats to try to keep warm; it was the middle of winter – not an ideal time to be flying for hours on broomstick. They apparated to the Forest of Dean before mounting the broomstick. Two people on a broom made it heavier and harder to steer but Severus was comforted by the closeness of Azalea’s body to his as she rode pillion. She shielded his back from the biting wind as his body shielded her from the headwind. He flew in a slow searching pattern whilst Azalea peered through the binoculars. There was little leaf cover on the trees in the winter months, making it easier for Azalea to search within the trees, seeking the colours and shimmers of light that indicated the presence of magic. There were a couple of false alarms, once when they encountered a flight of fairies performing graceful aerobatics over a glade where a fairy wedding was in progress, Azalea and Severus had no time to stay and watch. The second evidence of spells that Azalea saw were some bounty hunters crouched around a fire, with one of the hunters using cooking spells. They had no prisoners with them so Azalea and Severus left them alone and continued their search. After a couple of hours, they were both cold and were about to take a break when Azalea spotted the unmistakable glow of magic flickering in a stand of trees. Severus guided the broom to a silent landing and they went to investigate. 

The ground was frozen and covered with snow, but fortunately there had been no snow falling whilst they had been searching. They both used a disillusionment charm so as not to be seen and levitated slightly to avoid footprints in the snow. They spoke by way of their mind link in case the sound of their voices carried in the silence of the forest.

Azalea said. ^^I can make out the shape of someone sitting in the door to the tent. It must be them. Who else could it be?^^

Severus could see nothing but could make out a shimmer of enchantment that he would have overlooked had not Azalea pointed it out to him. ^^I have an idea but first we need to hide the sword^^ Severus responded.

They crept away and remounted the broom. Flying carefully through the trees, Severus was searching for something that would require daring, nerve and chivalry to obtain the sword. He said as much to Azalea.

“Why don’t you thrust it into a rock?” Azalea asked speaking directly into his ear as she held on around his waist riding pillion on the broomstick. 

She felt him laugh and he responded, “I think that’s been done before.” He started to circle around a small clearing some distance from where they had found the tent. He landed and Azalea looked at what he had seen – a frozen pond. “This will do,” he said. He dismounted from the broomstick and undid the sword which he had been carrying in a scabbard around his waist. He went over to the pond, cast a spell on the ice covering it to open it up and threw the sword into it. He watched it sink slowly to the bottom its bejewelled handle catching the light from the wand as it drifted downwards.

“Surely you’re not excepting Harry to dive in after that?” Azalea said. “I can see it would show daring and nerve but chivalry?” 

“It should do,” Severus replied. “The sword has to be taken in conditions of need and valour.”

“We are going to stay and watch over him aren’t we?” she said anxiously. “I don’t want him to die in the attempt.” 

“Of course we’ll stay. We can watch from behind those trees over there,” he said indicating a pair of trees growing close together with a gap of a few inches between the trunks at eye level, an ideal place to see but not be seen. “But first I need to get Potter to come here.” He held his wand and made to cast his patronus. 

“Wait!” said Azalea, “we need something unusual that Harry will notice. Let me help you to cast the patronus so we can boost it.”

Severus’ gripped his wand and Azalea put her hand on top of his. They had both removed the gloves they’d been wearing and the warmth of Azalea’s hand on top of his made Severus glow with happiness, he was glad she was here with him. He cast his patronus and Azalea added her spell to his. The patronus, shaped like a doe, shot out of his wand and was unlike any he had ever created before. It was his usual soft eyed doe but it was full of substance and shone like the moon in an ethereal silver light. It turned to look at him and Azalea as if seeking instructions before trotting off in the direction of the tent far into the forest. He watched it flitting through the trees before the distance and tree cover finally obscured it from his vision. Azalea started to shiver and put her gloves back on. After the doe had set off Azalea and Severus stood behind the pair of trees he had indicated earlier. Severus swept the spot where they would be standing clear of snow and pulled out a blanket he had brought with him saying, “All we can now is wait. But we can keep each other warm while we do so.” They wrapped themselves in the blanket and stood close together, arms around each other where they could see through the gap between the pair of trees they were standing behind.

They waited for many minutes before they saw the flicker of the returning doe coming back through the trees. The doe stopped by the pond and looked out into the forest, Azalea and Severus followed the line of her gaze and saw someone running towards her, who they both recognised as Harry. Severus discreetly waved his wand and the doe vanished just as Harry entered the clearing. They watched Harry as he lifted his wand to see if there was anyone in the clearing but Azalea and Severus were well concealed and he didn’t see them. Harry turned towards the pond and his attention was caught by the glint of the sword lying at the bottom.

^^He’s seen the sword^^ Azalea thought towards Severus, ^^that part of the plan has worked.^^

Harry raised his wand and spoke the summoning spell “Accio Sword.” Nothing happened.

^^That was never going to work,^^ Severus thought to Azalea almost contemptuously.

^^Still worth a try though^^ she responded.

Harry paced around the clearing for a while considering what he had to do. Finally, he reached the only conclusion, he was going to have to swim down and get it. He undressed to his underwear and piled his clothes next to the pond. On top of his clothes he placed a small, slightly furry pouch which Azalea could see was enchanted. ^^What’s that?^^ she asked Severus.

^^It’s a mokeskin pouch. Only the owner can retrieve items kept inside it^^ he informed her. ^^They are very rare, I wonder how Potter got one of those?^^ 

^^Now it’s my turn to have an idea,^^ Azalea said. She watched Harry step into the ice cold pond, steeling himself for the icy plunge to the bottom. With the benefit of hindsight she thought that perhaps Severus had been a little unkind to choose this particular task but it was too late to change it now. As soon as Harry dived into the water, without moving from where she was standing, Azalea swiftly cast a spell on the pouch ^^I’ve put a trace on the pouch and its contents^^ she told Severus, ^^now I will always be able to find Harry.^^

The time passed and Harry did not resurface, Azalea became anxious. She was just about to break cover and rescue him when Severus tightened his hold to stop her and pointed into the trees. Ron Weasley ran into the clearing and jumped, fully clothed, into the pond. Seconds later he surfaced, dragging Harry out and unceremoniously dumping him on the ground before diving in again and resurfaced holding the sword in one hand and a locket hanging on a chain in the other. “Are you mental?” Ron panted as he stood above Harry, swinging the locket, “Why the hell didn’t you take this thing off before you dived?”

^^That’s my locket!^^ Azalea exclaimed as she and Severus continued to watch. ^^Why have they got that?^^

^^They have retrieved the sword,^^ Severus responded, ^^and it was Weasley, not Potter, who showed nerve, daring and chivalry! My plan worked after all.^^

^^After all?^^ questioned Azalea, ^^Did you think it might not?^^

^^No plan is fool proof…^ he began then cautioned. ^^Potter’s coming this way, he may have seen something. We can’t disapparate, it’s too noisy. I’ll disillusion us, keep still and don’t move.^^

Hardly daring to breathe, Azalea remained still as Harry came towards the tree and looked behind it. Luckily he didn’t investigate further, she might be invisible but she was still solid and he would have walked into her if had stepped behind the trees. Harry went back to where Ron was standing. Azalea and Severus could clearly hear the conversation the two boys were having, Harry was telling Ron that he must be the one to destroy “it” and “it” seemed to be referring to her locket. Ron was clearly afraid to destroy the locket but agreed all the same. Harry told Ron he was going to open it using parseltongue.

^^What’s parseltongue?^^ Azalea asked Severus.

^^It’s the language that enables certain wizards to speak to snakes,^^ he told her.

Azalea heard Harry say “One, two, three, open” and the locket opened. ^^Sounded the same as English to me,^^ she told Severus.

All Severus had heard was a long hiss coming from Potter and it proved to him, as if more proof was needed, that Azalea was indeed descended from the line of Slytherin. He should tell her never to let anyone know that she could understand parseltongue. Now was not the time to do it, as her attention was on the scene playing out in front of them.

Harry had placed the locket on a flat stone before ordering it to open, Azalea and Severus could not see what had happened once the locket had opened but they could hear a hissing voice saying to Ron “I have seen into your heart and it is mine!” Azalea felt Severus arm tighten protectively around her when he heard the voice which they both knew to be Voldemort. Harry was shouting at Ron not to listen and to stab it now. Ron seemed unable to move when all at once two weirdly distorted heads blossomed out of the locket and hung in the air above it. Azalea saw they were supposed to be Harry and Hermione and the two images taunted Ron saying they were better off without him and how could Ron ever compare to the boy who had lived. All the while Harry was entreating Ron to stab the locket. The images of Harry and Hermione entwined and their lips met. “Ron! DO IT!” shouted the real Harry. His words must have reached Ron and he raised the sword and drove it into the centre of the locket. A long drawn out scream came from the locket and its words were silenced and its images destroyed. All that was left were the broken remains of the locket on the rock.

^^I think it’s time we left,^^ Azalea said quietly, not wishing to intrude now that the danger was over and the boys were discussing what had just occurred. She and Severus disapparated back to Hogwarts. Once they were safely returned and in the privacy of the head master’s living quarters, she said to Severus, “What was that thing in my locket?”

“I believe it was a horcrux,” Severus said quietly.

“Of the Dark Lord?” Azalea asked. “And they’ve just destroyed half of his soul?”

“Not half,” said Severus in a strained voice, “If it were half, the Dark Lord would have noticed and I have had no sign of his anger,” he continued, absently rubbing his arm where the dark mark was located. “He must have split his soul many times not to even notice the destruction of one part.”

“How many times, Severus, how many times?”

Severus considered her question before replying, “The ring that cursed Dumbledore’s arm, that must have been one and the diary.”

“What diary?” Azalea asked.

“It was before you came,” Severus said. “Have you heard of the Chamber of Secrets?”

“Yes, I’ve heard the story, there was a monster roaming the school which came from the chamber of secrets and Harry destroyed it. The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was injured helping them.”

“Mmm, that’s not quite the full story,” Severus said. “Ginny Weasley found a diary that had once belonged to Tom Riddle. There was an evil in the diary that possessed her and it was Ginny who opened the door to the monster, a basilisk. I now believe that the evil in the diary was part of the Dark Lord’s soul and the diary was a horcrux.”

“What happened to the diary?” she enquired.

“Potter destroyed it with a basilisk fang, he almost died in the process.” Severus said.

They were silent for a short while before Azalea continued the conversation. “So it is likely that Harry, Hermione and Ron are away seeking Horcruxes in an attempt to defeat the Dark Lord,” she concluded. “Did Dumbledore ask them to do that?”

“He must have done, but he would never confide in me about his plans for Potter. Dumbledore thought I spent too much time dangling on the arm of the Dark Lord,” Severus said bitterly.

A thought occurred to Azalea. “You said that Phineas saw Dumbledore destroy the ring with the sword of Gryffindor and he was fatally injured. Harry and Ron could have been cursed destroying the locket in the same way. What perils has he sent them into?”

She saw worry pass over Severus’ face, all the danger he had faced himself whilst watching over Harry could be for nothing if Harry died before he faced the Voldemort. “I hope he told them where to find the horcruxes,” he said finally.

“At least I can track them now with the trace I put on Harry’s mokeskin pouch.” she said. “I’ll check in on them regularly and if I think they need help then we can give it. There’s nothing more we can do for them tonight and our priority is for the students here at Hogwarts.” She had been sitting on the sofa next to Severus whilst they had been talking, now she stood up and held out her hand to him. “But the students are away and my priority right this minute is for us. I’m still feeling the cold from a freezing journey on a broomstick, I think the only way for me to warm up is for us to get into bed together and share body warmth. Do you agree?” 

The worried look fled from Severus’ face and he grinned back at her. Taking hold of her hand as he got up from the sofa, he swept her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom to warm up.


	76. Horcruxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azalea and Severus consider Horcruxes and continue to protect the students in their charge. A first for Luke!

Two days later Severus and Azalea learned that Harry, Ron and Hermione had narrowly escaped capture by the Ministry of Magic whilst at Xenophilius Lovegood’s house. Xenophilius had not been so lucky and he was imprisoned. They wondered why the teenagers had gone to visit Xenophilius although his betrayal of them was easier to understand - his daughter Luna was being held as a hostage for his good behaviour. Snape did not know where Luna had been taken after she had been kidnapped from the Hogwarts train and it made him more determined to ensure that the students were as safe as they could be whilst in his care at the school.

Azalea had been turning her mind to how many horcruxes Voldemort may have made and what he could have hidden them in. She asked Severus to tell her all he knew about Voldemort. She learned that he had been found in a muggle orphanage, about his outstanding academic performance at Hogwarts, his ideas and views about muggles and the muggleborn witches and wizards, the violence and atrocities he committed or had others carry out for him but none of it really helped her to understand where he might have hidden the horcruxes. 

One day towards the end of the Christmas holiday she was looking for Severus and tried his office. He wasn’t there. She considered just calling him through their mind link when she noticed a stone basin in a cabinet. On the shelf below she could see vials containing a silvery blue substance that swirled around like a gentle whirlpool, she picked one up – it was labelled “Bob Ogden.” She heard the door to the office open and turned round guiltily, it was Severus. “What is this?” she asked.

He came over to where she was standing, “It’s a pensieve,” he replied.

“What’s it for?” she asked.

“It’s for viewing memories. I’ll show you.” He took the basin from the cabinet and set it on the table. “We’ll look at this one,” he said taking the vial she was holding. He poured the contents into the bowl and she watched it swirl and shimmer looking like neither gas nor liquid. “Now we put our faces in,” Severus said. She copied his action, the bowl was large enough for both their heads. As her face broke the surface of the moving substance she felt as if she was being pulled into a milky whirlpool, rushing downwards until she landed on her feet in a country lane on a bright summer’s day; Severus was standing beside her. Ahead of them a short plump man, dressed in the bizarre way that wizards do when they are trying to fit into the muggle world, was walking up the footpath. “That must be Ogden,” said Severus, “it’s his memories we’re seeing.” Azalea shot him a warning glance to caution him about being overheard. “Don’t worry he can’t hear us,” he said. “This has already happened. It’s like seeing one of your muggle video recordings.”

“If it’s his memory, why aren’t we seeing it from his point of view, out of his eyes, so to speak?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he replied, “the magic just works this way. Let’s see why Dumbledore kept this memory.”

They followed Ogden and saw him encounter the unpleasant Gaunt family - Marvolo and his adult children Morfin and Merope. Ogden was from the Ministry of Magic and had come to take Morfin into custody for performing magic in front of a muggle. Marvolo was enraged that the ministry would think to punish a pureblood for jinxing a mere muggle. He told Ogden the Gaunt family was one of oldest line of purebloods and he produced a ring which had belonged to the Peverells, an ancient wizard family, and a locket passed down from Salazar Slytherin to prove it. Azalea gasped when she saw the locket, it was the one that Sirius had given her which Harry had destroyed the other night. Severus recognised the ring as the one that had been the cause of Dumbledore’s death. Both the items had later been converted into horcruxes. They saw Ogden’s memory of Merope’s interest in a muggle called Tom who rode past the house and her father’s anger at her for liking a muggle. They saw Ogden running away and returning a few minutes later with reinforcements to arrest Morfin and Marvolo.

Azalea and Severus emerged from the pensieve. “The Gaunt family?” Azalea said, “Aren’t they my ancestors? Was that horrible old man my great-great grandfather?”

“He must be, and the woman, Merope, I believe was the Dark Lord’s mother.”

“But why would Dumbledore keep this memory? What other memories has he kept?”

Severus had never before considered looking at the vials of memories that Dumbledore had kept in the cupboard but now he was curious. They searched the office for other memories but those in the cupboard where the only ones they found. Over the next few days he and Azalea viewed the memories that Dumbledore had kept there. They saw a memory from Caractucus Burke when he bought the Slytherin locket from a pregnant Merope Gaunt for a pittance. They saw Dumbledore as a young man visiting an orphanage where they learned the story of the birth of Tom Marvolo Riddle who was named for his father and grandfather. They met Tom Riddle as a child and could see he was a manipulative, secretive and cruel person even at eleven years old. He also collected trophies from the people he had bullied, small intrinsically valueless objects like a yo-yo, a silver thimble, and a mouth organ but beyond price to the impoverished orphans they had belonged to. Severus and Azalea saw a memory belonging to Morfin Gaunt, the day a teenaged Tom Riddle, the image of his muggle father, came to his house and learned where his real father lived. They saw the memory of Hokey, a very old house elf in the employ of Hepzibah Smith, about Hepzibah showing off her prized possessions of the Hufflepuff cup and the Slytherin locket to a young and handsome Tom Riddle. Azalea calculated that it must have been around this time that Tom stayed at the fairground which Mrs Thompson owned and she could see at once why her grandmother was so beguiled by him. The next memory they saw was one of Dumbledore talking to Tom Riddle. Dumbledore was now headmaster at Hogwarts so they worked out that this memory must be at least ten years after Riddle left the school. Tom’s appearance had changed significantly. Already his face was transforming to snake like features and his skin was almost pure white, he was now using the name Voldemort. He asked for a teaching post at Hogwarts which Dumbledore refused to give him. The final memory Azalea and Severus saw was that of Horace Slughorn, telling a student, Tom Riddle, about horcruxes.

Severus and Azalea researched the histories of the people in the memories and discovered that Caractucus Burke was the Burke of Borgin and Burke, a shop in Knockturn Alley specialising in magical artefacts and not discriminating between dark art artefacts and artefacts of general interest. Morfin Gaunt had confessed to, and been convicted of, the murders of a muggle family – Tom Riddle and his parents: the house elf Hokey had been found guilty of the manslaughter by accidental poisoning of her mistress Hepzibah Smith. 

“Death seems to follow where Tom Riddle has gone, doesn’t it?” Azalea commented to Severus.

“Yes and we could see that when he visited Dumbledore to ask for a teaching post, his appearance had started to change. I think he had already made some horcruxes by that time,” said Severus.

“We know already that the ring and the locket were horcruxes, do you think the Hufflepuff cup might be one too, if he’s following a theme of valuable and unique trophies?” asked Azalea.

“It’s possible but if we take that to its logical conclusion he should also have used the Ravenclaw diadem and the sword of Gryfindor as horcruxes,” observed Severus.

“He hasn’t used the sword,” said Azalea confidently, “it had no glow of dark magic about it like the locket did. Where’s the Ravenclaw diadem? If I look at that I’ll be able to see if that has a dark magic glow to it.”

“The diadem’s been lost for centuries,” said Severus, “He would have to have found it before he could use it.”

As they had been talking about horcruxes Severus recalled the conversation with Dumbledore when he had learned that part of Voldemort’s soul had attached itself to Potter, effectively turning him into a horcrux. By destroying the other horcruxes Potter was unknowingly hastening his own death. A death that had to be by Voldemort’s own hand. Dumbledore had charged Snape with the unenviable task of telling this to Potter. How would he could ever do this, Snape had no idea. Potter would never believe him. It took no time at all for Severus to decide he wasn’t going to tell Azalea and he would never give her the responsibility of telling her cousin that he must die. Snape hoped that he would recognise when the opportunity arose.

The Christmas holiday came to an end. Azalea and Severus had no more time to spare investigating the history and the mystery of the workings of Voldemort’s mind. Azalea was uncomfortable knowing what an evil man her grandfather had been beginning from when he was a young child. She could only hope that it was upbringing and not blood that were to blame and the completely different upbringing that her father and she had experienced and that her son would have, would never set them along the same path. 

The marauders map that Azalea had given to Snape was invaluable to him in preventing much of the harsh discipline that the Carrow siblings loved to dispense. A typical way in which he used the map was when he saw a gathering of students in a classroom with no teacher present after lessons had ended and before dinner. In the previous term he had banned students meetings of more than three people. He had noticed that if the Carrows come across a group of students and only one was doing something wrong, they would punish the entire group. If he saw the Carrows were nearby he made his way to the location where the meeting was taking place. He stood outside the room and would stop a student walking nearby and loudly challenge them. “What, may I ask, Whitby, are you doing here? The Hufflepuff common room is on the other side of the building. You had better move with the speed of a dragon if you are to make it before curfew begins. Here is something to help you along.” He shot a loud blast of fire from his wand in the direction of the student who raced down the corridor towards the common room. Meanwhile the students gathered in the adjoining room upon hearing Snape’s voice waited until he was moving away and then crept from the room and made off in the opposite direction. Snape would hear them leaving and continued striding down the corridor without a backward glance.

Another tactic he adopted was to intercept the Carrows if he thought they were about to punish a student, or he would interrupt their lessons by on some pretext or other to diffuse a potential punishable offense. He also took particular notice of the students like Goyle and Crabbe who would eagerly punish students on the orders of the Carrows. He instructed the teachers to give Crabbe and Goyle extra lessons and more homework try to keep them away from the other students. This has limited success because the other teachers considered that Snape was victimising them and their extra lessons and homework were often light or not pursued if not handed in. However, Crabbe and Goyle noticed that Snape seemed to dog their footsteps and he would frequently appear as if from nowhere to move them on and send them back to the Slytherin common room. 

In this way Snape soon gained a reputation from both the student body and the Carrows for always turning up and disrupting their plans. Azalea told him that the number of punishment injuries she was treating had declined but they both knew even one such injury was one too many. 

Snape noticed with dismay that the enforcers for the Carrows were largely from Slytherin House. He invited Professor Slughorn, the head of Slytherin house to his office to speak about it.

“Horace, do come in. Would you care for a drink?” Snape asked when Slughorn arrived at his office. “I have a bottle of mead that I found in the headmaster’s wine cellar.” He showed Slughorn the bottle, a good vintage that the Malfoys drank. Slughorn recognised the make as the same one that poisoned Ron Weasley.

“No thank you, headmaster,” he replied nervously, “Tea will be fine.”

Snape put the bottle of mead back on the wine rack with a wry smirk as he did so. Slughorn watched Snape carefully as he prepared the tea and didn’t taste his until Snape had taken a sip from his own cup.

“Professor Slughorn,” began Snape, “I’ve noticed that the Slytherin sixth formers seem the most enthusiastic about applying discipline on behalf of the Carrows.”

Not quite sure whether Snape thought this was a good or a bad thing Slughorn replied, “Are they, headmaster?”

“Yes, Professor they are.” He stared at Slughorn and glanced down at a paper on his desk as if consulting it, “The particular students who show most enthusiasm for the task are Goyle and Crabbe, closely followed by Parkinson, Nott, Zabini and Malfoy.”

“Not Malfoy,” Slughorn interjected hastily. “That boy has been a disappointment to me this year. I expected great things of him given who is father is, but he has become sullen and withdrawn. He barely scrapes through the homework I set him.”

“Not..Malfoy…” said Snape slowly and appeared to make a mark on the paper in front of him. “The others, however?” he shot a questioning look at Slughorn who squirmed slightly realising he had admitted his knowledge of the others. 

“Headmaster,” he blustered, “the Carrows are teachers in this school and I’m sure you approve of students obeying the instructions of their teachers.”

“I do indeed, Professor,” said Snape silkily. “But consider how much inconvenience would be caused if a student were to die or be seriously injured because another student misinterpreted the instructions of a teacher. There is so much paperwork to fill in, enquiries to be held and much of the work falls to the head of house who is, after all, responsible for the moral and physical welfare of the students in his house. Parents are unaccountably fond of their children and could cause trouble for the school. That would not please the Ministry of Magic, or,” he added touching a spot on his forearm where the dark mark was tattooed into his skin, “those in charge of the Ministry.”

“Headmaster, I would not harm any student in this school,” Slughorn said defensively.

“I know that Horace,” Snape said appeasingly. “But failure to act can be as harmful as the act itself.” Once again Snape stared at Slughorn as if trying to see into his mind. Slughorn fidgeted uncomfortably under such scrutiny. “I’m sure I can count on you to keep a close eye on the students I just mentioned and to make sure they are fully occupied at all times.”

“Yes, headmaster,” replied Slughorn. Later that day rumours abounded that Snape had tried to poison Slughorn and it was only Slughorn’s skill in detecting poison that had prevented it. 

Azalea, meanwhile, was keeping an eye on Harry, Hermione and Ron using the trace she had planted on Harry’s mokeskin pouch. If the three of them were working to a plan, Azlaea was not able to detect what it was. After their narrow escape at the Lovegood house, they just seemed to flit from place to place, staying only a couple of days in any one place before moving on. 

On one occasion Azalea tracked them to the Lake District. They had pitched the tent in a sheltered hollow overlooking a lake, not far from a small village. The view over the lake was beautiful, the reflections of the hills behind it shimmered on the clear surface. Azalea was admiring the view when she heard the sound of Hermione and Ron’s voices and they walked out of the hollow and towards the village. Azalea cast a disillusionment charm over herself, levitated slightly so the sound of her footsteps wouldn’t betray her and silently followed them. Ron was complaining of being hungry.

“I’ve hardly any money left, Ron,” said Hermione. “We’ll go into the village and see what we can afford.”

“We could always put on the invisibility cloak and just help ourselves,” Ron remarked.

“But that would be stealing!” Hermione said shocked. “I don’t think we have yet sunk so low as to steal have we Ron?”

“No, we haven’t,” he sighed and walked alongside Hermione along the path.

Azalea was not short of money these days but she couldn’t just walk up and present some to Hermione. She could, however, assist them immediately. She took a twenty pound note from her own purse. She overtook Ron and Hermione and dropped the money into the bushes on the side of the track. As Ron and Hermione passed the spot she had left the money, Azalea sent a gentle breeze causing the note to tremble slightly on the branch it was caught in. Ron saw the movement and glanced over, he spotted the money and picked it out of the bush. “Hermione!” he exclaimed, “Look what I’ve found.”

Hermione saw what he had in his hand. “We should take that to the police station and hand it in,” she said. “Someone must have lost it.”

“Be serious,” Ron said in frustration. “How can we just turn up at a muggle police station? We could be recognised, we don’t know how far You Know Who has infiltrated the muggle world. If we just leave the money where it is, the next person along will take it and we could use this to buy some decent food.”

Hermione was torn between honesty and need, in the end need won. “All right, I suppose finding money isn’t quite the same as stealing it. I hope who ever lost it won’t miss it too much.”

Azalea waited until they had finished their shopping and returned to the tent before she left.

On other occasion she discovered bounty hunters in the area where the three fugitives were staying. She amplified the sound of the voices of the bounty hunters so that their words could be clearly heard in the tent. Fearing that the hunters were closer than they actually were, the teenagers quickly packed up and disapparated under the shelter of Harry’s invisibility cloak.

In this way both Azalea and Severus protected their charges as best as they could. Azalea, who had the trust and confidence of the students in a way that Snape did not, learned of a pirate radio station called Potterwatch, which transmitted at irregular times and gave updates on sightings of Harry (which Azalea knew were nearly always incorrect) and of Voldemort (which Severus knew were almost always incorrect, the Dark Lord was still away on his search for something). However, the reports gave updates of people killed or missing and it seemed to tell more of the truth about what was happening than the propaganda dished out on the official Ministry radio stations. Snape recognised the voices of some of the contributors – Lee Jordan (a former student), Kingsley Shacklebolt, Remus Lupin and Fred Weasley – if he knew who they were, others would know too. Any contributor put themselves in danger in order to give others hope. 

Snape was reminded a few days later that although he put himself in danger, the secrecy in which he did it meant that he gave no one hope and they thought the worst of him. He entered the staffroom, Azalea was there with Luke who was crawling around on the floor. The buzz of conversation and laughter died down as the occupants became aware of him standing by the door. He gazed around the silent room to see if the people he was seeking was there. He heard a small gasp at the same time as he felt something grab his leg, he looked down, it was Luke; he had crawled over and was now hauling himself to a standing position using Severus’ leg for support. He looked up to his father for approval and praise.

Azalea rushed over and started babbling excitedly, “That’s the first time he’s managed to get his feet by himself, before he’s needed help!”

Snape said curtly, “Miss Bennett remove your child. This is staff room not a nursery. Hogwarts already makes too many allowances for your situation since you were foisted on me by my predecessor.”

He saw Azalea’s face drop with shock and she bent down to remove Luke who was still clinging to his leg. He ignored her and the looks of disgust on the faces of the others in the staff room and spoke to those he had come to see, “Minerva, Horace, Filius and Pomona, I’d like to see you all in my office now please.” He waited by the door for them to go ahead of him before following them out. 

He felt Azalea’s telepathic question, ^^There’s nothing wrong is there?^^

^^No,^^ he replied, ^^It’s just routine headmaster business.^^

^^When you’ve finished come to my chambers for some routine husband business.^^ She responded seductively and flashed an image into his brain of what she had in mind. He let out a short burst of laughter that he changed to a cough as Minerva gave him a severe and withering look. 

^^You’re a wicked woman!^^ he thought back to her in amusement, reassured to know that Azalea had not taken offence at his public criticism of her.

^^But I’m your wicked woman!^^ she responded in their well-practised banter and the world was right again.


	77. Prisoner

Luke celebrated his first birthday at Azalea’s house in Stevenage. Lucy came, as did Mrs Thompson and Beryl plus many of Azalea’s muggle friends. Azalea might have been the second of her group to get married and the first to have a child but since then there had been two more weddings, one of which was Stuart, one more baby and another on the way. She shared her experiences of pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood with her friends and Severus chatted amicably with the new fathers. He felt out of depth when they talked about sport, cars and current muggle affairs, which were far outside his experience, at those times he listened and did not contribute to the conversation. He enjoyed the afternoon mostly on Azalea’s behalf for he saw she missed her friends and she relished the opportunity to catch up. 

When they had all gone, and Luke was asleep for the night. Azalea and Severus sat quietly together on the sofa, drinking wine and forgetting the wizard world troubles for one night. Azalea said, “Do you remember we said we would have another baby in the cradle this Christmas? That’s not going to happen is it?”

Severus smiled and said, “If we start work on it right now, we could just about manage it.”

She laughed and hit him playfully on the arm, “That’s not what I meant.” Her tone turned serious, “I meant it’s not a good time to bring another baby into the world, with all the danger and uncertainty. We should wait until Harry has found the horcruxes and destroyed the Dark Lord. Then we shall be safe.”

“I’m happy with the one child you have already given me, Leah. If we don’t have any more I shall have no regrets. We will see what the future holds, my love,” he said. He drained the rest of his wine and put the empty glass on the floor. “But, we can still practice at making babies can’t we?” he said with a gleam in his eyes.

Her face brightened at his suggestion, “That we can do, after all practice makes perfect.” She finished the rest of her wine and they continued to practice right there and then.

\--oOo—

Azalea was in the infirmary instructing Madam Pomfey about some of the new innovations at St Mungos for treating bites inflicted by magical beasts. Azalea liked the older woman, she was willing to accept that there were new and better ways of practising healing and would put them into practice. Azalea benefited from Madam Pomfrey’s extensive experience in dealing with magical accidents, and her tactful way of sending away students who were exaggerating their injuries or just simply malingering. 

“I’m glad you came here for your work experience, Azalea,” said Madam Pomfrey. “It’s good to learn the new ways and to be able to discuss how to treat the injuries and illnesses of the students.”

“I would like to say that I’m enjoying it, Poppy” replied Azalea, “but given the circumstances that’s probably not the right word.”

“In other circumstances I wouldn’t need you here,” Poppy answered.

“In that case, I’m glad to be here and to be able to make a difference,” said Azalea.

“The idea of using the house elves to provide cover for the night shift was inspired,” said Poppy. “The nights tend to be quieter and if we have overnight patients it means that someone is here to keep an eye on them, while you and I get some sleep.”

“House elves like to help,” said Azalea, “and there are so many here at Hogwarts I knew that some of them would be willing to learn basic care skills to be a healer’s assistant. The headmaster was happy to let them to do so. Let’s face it, with so many ill and injured students that get sent here he could hardly refuse when most of the injuries are inflicted by the Dark Lord’s followers.”

They heard the door to the infirmary open and Snape entered walking briskly towards them dressed in his travelling cloak. Azalea noticed Poppy stiffen when she saw him and ask him formally, “How may I help you, headmaster?”

“I require Miss Bennett to accompany me to attend to a patient,” he replied equally formally.

“I am the senior healer, I will accompany you,” she told Snape.

“No, Madam Pomfrey, your duty is here with the students. The work is within the skill of Miss Bennett,” he responded.

“It’s all right, Poppy,” Azalea said, “I don’t mind going and the headmaster is correct, you are of more use here than I am.”

“You will need your medical bag,” Snape said to her.

Azalea fetched it along with her travelling cloak and stood next to Snape. They started to walk towards the door when Madam Pomfrey called after him, “Headmaster, when may I expect Miss Bennett to return?”

Snape stopped in the doorway and answered her, “Later today, it should be no more than a couple of hours.” He faced Azalea and said brusquely “Miss Bennett follow me.”

“To the ends of the earth,” she whispered as they stepped together out into the corridor and she saw a small smile grace his lips for a moment before he strode off leaving her to follow in his wake. He led her out of the building and into the school grounds. “Headmaster,” she called after him, “Aren’t you going to tell me where we’re going and who I am to treat?”

He slowed his pace to let her catch up. “In due course,” he replied but walked more to her speed until they reached the boundary. Once outside the gate he produced a blindfold. “Put this on,” he said. “I’m going to apparate us to the patient and it is better if you don’t know where we are going.” She did as he requested, he linked his arm through hers intertwining their fingers as he did so. She felt the disorientating effect of disapparation, they emerged from the darkness and she could feel a slight breeze on her face and the sound of birdsong. “Keep on the blindfold,” he instructed. “Now we have to walk.” Keeping their arms linked he walked steadily stopping at one point to open a gate. She could tell by the texture of the ground beneath her feet and the sound of her footsteps that she was walking along a gravel path. “We’re at the building now,” he said, “There are steps up to the front door.” Azalea tentatively put out a foot to find the bottom step and then the next one to step up, Snape continued to guide her steps. She heard the door open and by the sounds of their footsteps echoing on the floor and walls she could feel she was in a large open space, like a vestibule. Snape let go of her arm and she reached up to untie the blindfold. 

“Not yet!” she heard the voice of a well-educated man snap and she lowered her hands. Her medical bag was messenger-style and hung over her right shoulder, she shifted it to a more comfortable position. “The prisoner is downstairs you can take it off then.”

She heard someone else cross the floor, “I’ll take ‘er downstairs,” said a leering voice she recognised at once as that of Amycus Carrrow. 

“No!” spat out Severus, “I’ll do it.” Azalea felt him take her arm again.

A coarse laugh came from Carrow’s direction “That’s the closest you’ve got to a woman for years ain’t it Snape? A woman would need to wear a blindfold to touch you. I’ll ‘ave her when you’re done. She can see what a real man is like.”

Azalea could feel Snape shaking with anger and she squeezed his arm to divert his attention from Carrow. 

“Enough!” said the first speaker. “She is here to do a job. Snape - take her downstairs and stay with her while she treats the prisoner. You,” he addressed Carrow, “Get out of here and keep out of the way, the only people she is to see are the prisoner and Snape.”

Azalea descended the stairs carefully, the temperature growing noticeably cooler the lower she went. Once at the bottom, Snape turned left and led her along a corridor, she could hear the echo of their footsteps sounded hollow and the air felt damp. They stopped and she heard a door open with a heavy squeak. She stepped inside and the door closed behind her. “You can take off the blindfold now,” Snape said letting go of her arm. She removed the blindfold and looked at the room she was in. It was a windowless room with stone walls glistening with damp, the room was dimly lit with a single candle stuck in a recess dug into the wall. In one corner was a coarse pallet on which someone was laying. Azalea went over the pallet and could make out the figure of an old man, thin to the point of emaciation, he had silver grey hair and his faced was heavily lined. “Severus,” asked Azalea, “Would you increase the light in here please, so I can see what I’m dealing with.” She heard the swish of a wand and the brightness from the single candle increased a hundredfold. “Thanks,” she said automatically and knelt down on the floor by the pallet. “Hello,” she said, “I’m Azalea, I’m a healer and I’ve been called in to see you. What may I call you?”

“No speaking to the prisoner,” Snape said.

“How am I supposed to know what’s wrong with him and where he has pain if I can’t speak to him?” she said in exasperation. 

“Keep your questions to that subject,” Snape replied, hating the fact that he had to speak to Azalea like this but needing to keep up his pretence even if the prisoner was the only witness.

Speaking softly to the man on the pallet, Azalea discovered not only was he malnourished and suffering from slight hypothermia, he was covered in injuries which must have been inflicted by torture. She could see the shadow of dark curses on some of his wounds in addition to bacterial infection. She took out her wand to remove the stain of the curses before she used the potions to fight the infection. 

“No wands. Give it to me,” commanded Snape. 

“But I need it to heal him,” she protested, holding tightly to her wand and refusing to hand it over. 

“You’ll have to heal him without it. Use the potions you have in your bag. Now give me your wand, I can’t allow you to use wand magic in here.”

^^Please, Leah^^ he begged telepathically, ^^I can’t give you or Ollivander the opportunity to escape.^^

^^You know I don’t need a wand to escape,^^ she responded.

^^I’m trusting you not to, please give the wand to me.^^

Azalea slowly handed the wand to him and he put it in his robes but still holding his own wand in his hand. While Azalea and Severus had been arguing, Ollivander (for the old wand maker was the prisoner) had taken a look at Azalea’s wand which she was holding above his head. His eyes widened in amazement, he had decades of experience in wands and had made a good percentage of those currently in use. But not this one, the wand the healer had in her hand was old beyond counting, the wand of legend, he would stake his reputation on the fact that this was the wand that Voldemort was seeking and she had just casually handed it over to a Death Eater! But not any Death Eater, it was Voldemort’s right hand man and the murderer of Dumbledore. Ollivander only had to speak the truth and his torment would be over. 

Azalea returned to her patient, she gave him some potion to drink, she rubbed ointments into his wounds and placed her hands over some of them muttering an incantation and he could feel the curses leave his body, for the first time in many weeks he was free of pain and torment. Only Luna who shared his imprisonment had, up until now, managed to make him forget his cares with her calmness, optimism and her bizarre, but sincerely held beliefs, about magical creatures and plants. If he were to trade his freedom for knowledge of the wand he would be leaving Luna alone. She was held to keep her father in line, he doubted if Voldemort would let her go as part of any deal. If by some chance he was wrong and the healer’s wand was not the one Voldemort was looking for, it would be death for Ollivander and loneliness for Luna. He would remain silent unless extreme circumstances demanded it. 

Azalea finished her ministrations and said to Snape, “I’ve done all I can for him, what he really needs is good food, warmth, comfort and freedom.”

“His freedom is not mine to grant. I will see if the others can be given.” 

“I’m going to leave some medicine and ointments for his injuries,” she said. Turning her attention to Mr Ollivander she gave him some bottles, “Take a mouthful of this when the pain is too much but not more than 3 times a day,” she said. “Rub the ointment into the cuts once day. Is there anyone to help reach the ones on your back?”

“Yes,” he replied in a whisper, “Luna will do it.”

Azalea let her surprise show on her face and mouthed the words “Luna Lovegood” back to him. He nodded slightly and she pressed his hand in gratitude for the information. 

“It is time to leave Miss Bennett,” said Snape from behind them. “Put the blindfold back on.”

“I’d like to come back in a couple of weeks to see how he’s recovering,” she said as she tied the blind fold. 

Snape dimmed the candle back to its natural light and they left the cell. He spoke to someone who had been waiting outside. Azalea heard the hatred in Severus’ voice as he spoke, “Still listening at doors are you? I thought I had cured you of that when you were a guest at my house. See to it that the prisoner is fed and clothed properly.” 

“I don’t take orders from you Snape,” the other person replied, a male voice sulky and bitter. “And it was me who asked for the healer to look at the prisoner.”

“Your concern does you credit,” Snape replied sarcastically, “I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that our master would be angry if the prisoner died before he had no further need of him. Now see to the prisoner. Miss Bennett will return in two weeks to ensure to check up on his recovery.” With that he guided Azalea back to outskirts of the property and apparated back to Hogwarts. 

Azalea never made the return visit to the prisoner to check on his condition.

\--oOo—

The school Easter holidays had just began. Azalea and Winky were in Azalea’s quarter’s playing with their children when Winky suddenly said, “Winky is worried about Dobby.”

Azalea had long suspected that Dobby was Benny’s father but she had never asked Winky, house elves were entitled to their secrets as much as wizards were. “Why?” she asked.

“Winky and the other house elves hasn’t seen him for two days.”

“He is a free elf, Winky, he can leave if he wants to.” 

“Dobby wouldn’t go without telling Headmaster Severus,” Winky asserted.

Azalea knew that was true, if Dobby no longer wanted to work for Hogwarts he would hand in his notice to the headmaster in accordance with the contract of employment. “When was the last time you saw him?” she asked Winky.

“Two days ago before Master Dumbledore called Dobby to do an errand.”

“Dumbledore?” said Azalea in confusion, “but he’s dead.”

“Not Master Albus,” said Winky, as if speaking to an idiot, “Master Aberforth, his brother.”

“I never knew Albus had a brother,” said Azalea half to herself, “only a sister.” She questioned Winky, “Where can I find Aberforth?”

“The Hogs Head Inn,” Winky answered.

Leaving the children with the other house elves Azalea and Winky made their way to the Hogs Head Inn in Hogsmeade. Since Azalea had returned to Hogwarts as trainee healer she had often been to Hogsmeade to tend to patients in the village, the changes there still dismayed her every time she went. The deserted streets, the unnatural quiet and the slow neglect of the buildings. She went inside the Hogs Head, it was not a pub she had been into before, preferring the Three Broomsticks. The interior reflected the seedy appearance of the outside, there were three patrons sitting in a huddle on hard wooden stools around a low table, she heard a muttered conversation and saw a package change hands. The barman was behind the bar, he had stringy wire grey hair with an untidy beard and he wore a pair of round spectacles. Now she knew he was related to Albus, Azalea could see the family resemblance. She approached the bar and could feel the suspicious looks of the other patrons in the bar, it was unusual to see a pretty young woman come into the Hogs Head Inn but unheard of for one accompanied by a house elf. 

“What can I get you?” Aberforth asked.

Azalea leaned over the bar and said quietly, “I’d like to know when you last saw Dobby.”

Aberforth said evenly, “Sorry, we don’t serve information here. I don’t what you’re talking about.”

Winky hissed “My lady, he is lying.”

Aberforth lifted his eyebrows at Winky’s interruption, “My lady is it?” he said as if it meant something to him, he lowered his voice and whispered, “Go around the back. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Azalea left the way she had come in and the eyes of the other customers followed her until she shut the door behind her and they returned to their muttering. Once outside Azalea used a concealment charm on herself and Winky and walked around the back of the pub which was even more shabby and uninviting than the front. Presently a wooden door covered in peeling khaki coloured paint opened and Aberforth ushered them inside. They were in a dimly lit room with black mould in the corners and cobwebs hanging from the ceiling made brown by years of smoke and lack of cleaning. 

“Who are you?” Aberforth demanded.

“I’m Azalea Bennett, I’m a healer at Hogwarts and this is my house elf, Winky.”

“My brother mentioned you to me, you’re related to Harry Potter,” he stated.

“Yes, he’s my cousin,” she confirmed “but we’re not here about Harry, it’s Dobby we’re looking for. He came here a couple of days ago to do an errand for you and we haven’t seen him since.”

Aberforth contemplated how to answer her. His brother had told him that Miss Bennett could be trusted. It had been many years since Aberforth had taken Albus’ word as the absolute truth and he often wondered why people gave Albus their blind trust. However, the house elves had complete faith in this woman and called her “my lady” without a trace of cynicism, somehow he was more inclined to believe the house elves than his brother. “I received a call for help from Harry and sent Dobby to assist,” he told her after a short pause.

Azalea hadn’t checked on Harry for a week or so and was unaware that Harry had been in trouble. “How did he contact you?” she asked. 

“Two way mirrors,” Aberforth said succinctly. “He has one, I have the other. He doesn’t know it’s me he’s seeing; he thinks it Albus, but it was enough for me to know he needed help. I sent Dobby.”

“How did Dobby know where to find him?” she asked intrigued.

“Elf magic,” supplied Winky.

“I think that’s your answer,” Aberforth told her. “I need to get back to the bar, my customers are a dishonest bunch and I have to make sure they don’t steal anything. I’m sorry I can’t be of any more help but if you see Dobby thank him for me.” He started to head back towards the bar but Azalea called him back.

“Aberforth, you seem like a good man to me who’s willing to help others. The situation at Hogwarts is – er - difficult and getting worse by the day. If it is ever in your power to help the students I’d be most grateful if you would.”

“My brother asked the same of me before he died. I didn’t give him an answer but for you I will. If I can help the students, then I’ll do all I can,” he promised.

“Thank you Aberforth and if you need my help just ask.” He nodded and waved to her as he returned to the bar.

Azalea and Winky let themselves out and Azalea asked Winky if she had any elf magic way of finding Dobby. 

“No,” said Winky. “A house elf can always find their master. Dobby not my master so Winky can’t find him.”

“Harry isn’t Dobby’s master,” said Azalea.

“Dobby think of Master Harry as his master even as a free elf,” Winky explained.

“Winky,” said Azalea, “I can find Harry, if Dobby is with him will you say that house elf magic helped you find him so that Harry doesn’t know I can track him.”

“Yes my lady” said Winky.


	78. Lost and Found

Azalea homed in on the trace she had put on Harry and taking Winky’s hand she disapparated them both to its location. They appeared on a cliff top overlooking the sea. To most people it would seem to be an empty place, except for the sea birds swooping and diving in the wind over the sea and cliffs, but Azalea saw at once the shimmer of magic, wards guarding somewhere and hiding it from view. She looked closely at the colours the wards made and she could discern holes in the defences, the protection was imperfectly complete. One of the holes was large enough for her to crawl through without setting off any alarms. She told Winky to follow closely behind and keep within the same space that Azalea did. Once inside she stood up and looked around; in front of her was a small cottage, its walls whitewashed and decorated with sea shells, set in the centre of a small garden. The front door burst open and out rushed several people wielding wands and pointing them at her. Azalea raised her hands and walked towards them. She had recognised some of them immediately, the man in the lead was Bill Weasley, his long hair in a ponytail and with a scarred face, behind him was his beautiful wife, Fleur, her silvery- blonde hair moving in the gentle breeze. Ron was next to her and beside him a young man Azalea had seen at Hogwarts but whose name she couldn’t recall, next to him was Luna. 

Azalea rushed forward crying, “Luna! You’ve escaped!” She looked around, “Mr Ollivander, did he get out as well?”

“Yes, he’s upstairs,” Luna replied in her mild manner. “Why are you here?”

Bill stepped between them saying brusquely, “More importantly, how did you get in?”

“There are gaps in the wards around the house, we climbed through one,” Azalea replied. To demonstrate she raised her hand and shot a blast of energy through the hole they’d entered by. It sailed through the gap without triggering any alarms. “There is another over there,” she shot again, “and there” once more she shot through a gap. She looked upwards, “above us is peppered with small holes.” Bill and Fleur exchanged a look of horror and immediately set to shoring up the defences, they had not questioned Azalea’s assessment of the situation. 

“Are Harry and Hermione here?” Azalea asked generally.

“Yes,” replied Ron. “You still haven’t answered Luna’s question, why are you here?”

“We’re looking for Dobby,” she told them.

“Dobby’s dead,” said Luna matter-of-factly. “His grave is at the bottom of the garden. He died rescuing us from the prison. I think he came because of Harry, the rest of us had been imprisoned for months and Harry was only in prison for a few hours. Dobby was very brave and I’m sad that he’s dead.”

Azalea and Winky found Dobby’s grave, it was located between two bushes, placed on the recently disturbed earth covering it was a large white stone, its edges smoothed out by aeons under the sea, on which were etched the words “Here lies Dobby, a Free Elf.” They collected some flowers growing in the lawn and sprinkled them over the grave. Winky sobbed as she did so. 

Azalea put her arm around Winky and said, “I’m sorry Winky, Dobby was a fine and brave person. You must make sure that Benny knows how brave his father was.”

Winky pulled away from Azalea and said, “Dobby not Benny’s father. Winky sad because Dobby was Winky’s friend.”

“Oh,” said Azalea “I always thought Dobby was Benny’s father. Who is his father then?” she asked tactlessly.

Now that Winky was no longer a free elf she had to answer her mistress’s questions and she replied straight away but she did so reluctantly “Scotty.”

Azalea realised at once that she had forced Winky to tell her a secret she hadn’t wanted to be told. “Oh Winky, I’m sorry,” she said contritely, “I shouldn’t have asked you that. I promise I won’t tell anyone, not even my husband.”

Now that Winky had told her secret to Azalea she went further, “Scotty is Winky’s husband. Just like my lady and master Severus. Nobody knows, other house elves would be cross if they find out. House elves is not allowed to get married.”

“Now we both know each other’s secrets and one day, Winky we will both be able to tell the world of the men we have married and how proud we are to be their wives.” Azalea said fervently and hoped it would come true. 

Winky’s big round eyes filled with hope and she slipped her hand into Azalea’s and they slowly walked back to the cottage. 

Bill and Fleur had completed repairing the wards around their house and Azalea could now see no weaknesses. They invited Azalea and Winky into the house and asked if they wished to stay for dinner. Azalea noted how crowded the small house was and declined the offer but took the opportunity to check the former prisoners to see if they required her help. She asked Winky to go back to Hogwarts to get her medical bag and Winky returned a few minutes later with it. 

Harry and Ron appeared to be in good condition, nothing that a few good meals and rest wouldn’t cure. Hermione had the word “mudblood” scratched into her arm and told Azalea that Bellatrix had done it to force her to say where Harry was. “All the time he was in the prison below,” she said. Azalea placed her hand over the scarring and removed it an instant. 

Luna and the young man Azalea now knew was Dean Thomas, a muggle born, were also in need of food and rest but should recover. 

Upstairs she found Mr Ollivander, who had improved since she last saw him but given his age, the torture he had endured at Voldemort’s hand and his longer period of incarceration it would be a while before he was fully fit again. She advised Bill and Fleur on the best way to treat him but Azalea could see that Bill and Fleur were overstretched with their guests and commitments. Once Mr Ollivander was ready to move, in a few weeks’ time, Azalea recommended that he should be moved to a place where there would more people to look after him. “Aunty Muriel’s” said Bill. “The rest of the family has had to leave the Burrow and they’ve all moved to Muriel’s. Mum will be grateful to have something to occupy her mind. She’s going mad with worry over Ron now that the Ministry know he is not ill with spattergroit.”

“I would strongly recommend that Ginny doesn’t go back to Hogwarts next term,” said Azalea. “The Death Eaters think nothing of holding family members as hostages for good behaviour - look at Luna. Ginny would be too tempting a target for them to ignore. But she will be wanted for truancy.”

“As the rest of the family are considered to be blood traitors, what does one more offence matter?” said Bill grimly. “We’ve already decided she’s not going back. There will be one fewer student at Hogwarts next term but one more member of our family in relative safety.”

Satisfied that Mr Ollivander would be well looked after Azalea visited the final escapee from the prison they had been held in. Lying in a bed in a single room on the first floor Azalea found the goblin Griphook. She greeted him cordially, “Mr Griphook, I’m pleased to see you still alive, Mr Gringott always speaks highly of you. He misses your advice and support in the business, you can be sure of getting your job back whenever you wish.” As she spoke she examined him. He had two deep gashes on his face and his legs had been broken but Fleur had treated them with skelegro and some strength had returned to them. 

Griphook glared at her suspiciously, “How do you know Mr Gringott? You are a wizard and a muggle born at that.”

“I have proof that my father is a wizard,” she said as she opened her bag and took out an ointment. “Don’t move for a minute,” she instructed him, “I’m going to put ointment on those cuts on your face and then close them up, there should be no scarring.” He remained still as she carried out the treatment. When she’d finished she examined her handiwork and said, “I know Mr Gringott because we are business partners.”

Sudden comprehension dawned on Grimhook and he exclaimed, “You! It’s you that have those Gringott shares. I heard that the bank narrowly avoided being taken over by Death Eaters and was only saved by unknown shareholder coming forward and tipping the odds in Mr Gringott’s favour. You saved the bank.”

Azalea started to repack her bag. “I did, but at great personal risk so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. I don’t know for how long the bank will remain safe. We’ve probably only bought breathing space.”

“I’m grateful all the same,” said Griphook. “If the wizards hurry up and finish their war we goblins can back to business as usual.”

“Only if the Death Eaters don’t win,” said Azalea. Stopped packing her bag for a minute and looking at him said, “Mr Griphook, you probably know that Harry Potter is the wizard that prophecy says has the power to destroy the Dark Lord.”

“Prophecy?” he scoffed, “Old wives tales, goblins put no store by such nonsense.”

“Neither do I,” Azalea agreed, “I believe we make our own future. Nevertheless the prophecy gives people hope and, more importantly, the Dark Lord believes it to be true. That is why he pursues Harry with such vigour. I would ask you, Mr Griphook, that if you wish the world to return to as it was, with Gringotts bank at its centre, then if you are ever in a position to help Harry in his quest, please do so.”

“By doing so I also would protect the value of your investment,” he said his black eyes glinting.

“That would be a fortunate side effect,” she said. “Believe me that I am also taking steps to protect my own investments and not only the ones at Gringrotts, others that to me are beyond value.”

“I like you Miss Bennett,” said Griphook unexpectedly, “You have some goblin traits in you. If I can help Harry Potter, then I will, especially if there is profit in it for me.”

“We should all be paid for our services Mr Griphook,” she said. “Now, you need to rest for a few days but you should make a full recovery.” 

She went back downstairs and with Winky said their farewells and returned to Hogwarts. 

Severus was in the headmasters chambers playing with Luke when she came back. “Where have you been?” he asked, “I was beginning to worry.”

“Winky was concerned about Dobby,” she said.

“Now you mention it I haven’t seen him for a few days,” he commented. “Did you find him?”

“Yes and we also found Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna and Mr Ollivander.” 

“Ollivander?” queried Severus, “I thought he was still a prisoner?”

“No, he escaped. Dobby helped them all to escape and he was killed in doing so.” Tears filled her eyes as she thought fondly of Dobby and how she would never see him again.

Severus left Luke to play on his own and went to comfort his wife. “Leah, I’m sorry. I know you were fond of him. Are the others all right?” 

“They’ll recover,” she said, “Mr Ollivander was the weakest but he should be all right now he’s getting proper care and nursing.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said as he hugged her to him. 

She pulled away slightly, “Did you know that Peter Pettigrew is dead?”

“Wormtail dead? When did this happen?” Snape was annoyed that he had not been kept informed of the events at Malfoy Manor and had to find about them out in other ways.

“Two days ago. Harry, Ron and Hermione were captured by bounty hunters and taken to where Mr Ollivander and Luna were prisoners. Dobby came to rescue them. Pettigrew almost killed Harry but for some reason pulled back at the last minute. He was then killed by an artificial hand he has.”

“The Dark Lord finds many ways to punish those who betray him,” said Severus under his breath. “He was here - the Dark Lord. Two days ago, he desecrated Dumbledore’s grave but he’s been in a buoyant mood ever since.”

“Why desecrate the grave, was there something there he wanted?” asked Azalea. 

“I don’t know. I repaired the damage. Dumbledore’s body seemed undisturbed to me, he had his spectacles on and his hands were crossed over his body.”

“Holding his wand,” added Azalea.

“No,” said Severus, “there was no wand.”

“He was buried with his wand,” said Azalea. “I was at the funeral, I saw it. He was still holding it when the tomb closed over him.”

“Why would the Dark Lord want his wand?” Severus wondered aloud. The thought occurred to him that this must have been what Voldemort had been seeking these past few months.

Snape had hoped to spend much of the Easter holidays with Azalea and Luke but the return of Voldemort meant that Snape’s exclusion from the events at Malfoy Manor ended and he was often summoned to the presence of the Dark Lord. 

On one such occasion Voldemort invited Snape to walk around the garden with him. Voldemort was holding his wand, it rarely left his hand and he was absently shooting spells at the white peacocks who scurried away to the other side of the house and out of range. “Severus,” he said. “Now I have the Elder Wand,” he looked at the wand possessively, “I will be soon be able to defeat Potter and I will prove that prophecies can be thwarted.” His red eyes glowed as he relished the idea.

“Once Potter is gone, you will be invincible, my Lord” said Snape reassuringly.

“That I have always known Severus, it is the reason I survived so long in a pitiful form; my determination to take vengeance against him helped me to survive.” Voldemort strolled down the lawn oblivious to the colourful array of spring flowers newly grown in the gardens. Snape walked in step with him and inhaled the fragrance of lily-of-the valley and sweet violet as they passed the well-tended flower beds. “You know that I am born of the line of Slytherin,” said Voldemort.

“Yes, my Lord,” agreed Snape.

“There is a prophecy, that one in the line of Slytherin shall have the power to cheat death. I am the last in the line and none before have been able to cheat death so the prophecy applies to me.” He twirled the wand casually and continued, “But since the day that Dumbledore died, I have had a feeling that something has changed. I fear that there is another threat to my rise to power.” Snape remained silent and Voldemort continued. “But enough of that, I will triumph because I now have the Elder Wand, the Deathstick.” He paused once more to admire the wand. “Whilst I was away seeking it, my Death Eaters have not served me as well as they should. They failed me in the takeover of Gringotts. They were thwarted by the beneficiary to the Black legacy.”

Severus felt a cold chill run through his body but just to be sure his suspicion about Azalea’s were correct he queried “Potter? Surely if he came out of hiding, he should have been apprehended at Gringotts.”

“Not Potter!” exclaimed Voldemort. “It was a mudblood woman who lived with Black before he died. Now the matter is tied up in the legalities and processes that are so beloved by the goblins and it could be years before it is resolved in my favour. If I could take the bank by force then I would.” Voldemort stopped unexpectedly and Snape took a step ahead of him but quickly returned to Voldemort’s side. “This brings me to my next point, Severus, I need to gain more followers and soldiers for my army, so that my defeat of Potter and his supporters will be total. I require your help with this. Once I have achieved victory I will bring Gringotts into my control and dispose of Black’s beneficiary.”

“I am, of course, yours to command my Lord,” replied Snape smoothly. The last thing he wanted to do was to help build up Voldemort’s armies. Snape had not known that Azalea had inherited Gringott’s shares from Black and it angered him that she had kept it from him, but whatever secrets she had, he would not stand by and let Voldemort kill her. He continued in a reasonable tone. “However, I believe that I may better serve you by remaining at Hogwarts. It is important that I am there at all times, so that we know where the students are and to ensure good behaviour from both them and their families. I am certain that Potter will return, and when he does you will know the minute I do.”   
Voldemort thought for a few seconds, “You are correct. I have other lieutenants who can seek more followers, or influence people to my side or even pay for mercenaries. You know Hogwarts and its occupants inside out, you serve me better there.”

Later that day, Azalea returned from St Mungo’s where she had been working because it was the school holidays. She was carrying Luke and talking to Winky, they went straight to the Headmaster’s residence where Azalea stayed when the school was closed. Severus was sitting stiffly on the sofa and upon hearing her enter he rose to face her, she saw at once that his face looked like thunder. Azalea handed Luke to Winky and asked her to take him to the kitchen and give him his tea. 

The second the door closed behind them, Severus said angrily, “Why didn’t you tell me about the Gringott’s shares?”

“Mr Gringott and I thought it best that no one else knew,” she replied now knowing the cause of Severus’ anger.

“I am not no one!” he retorted, “I am your husband! Do you know what you’ve done?”

“Yes, I used my influence in the bank to protect the savings and income of thousands of ordinary wizards - including you,” she said by way of explanation.

“No!” he shouted, “You’ve made the Dark Lord aware of your existence.” He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her green eyes which returned his gaze steadily and he continued in a calmer voice. “We’ve spent all this time hiding the truth about us and Luke from everyone, especially the Dark Lord. Whatever possessed you to take the risk of him finding out? Did you even consider the danger to yourself? To Luke?”

“Of course I did!” she responded forcefully. She shook free from his grasp and crossed to the other side of the room. “In the end I did what I was thought was right and for the greater good. The livelihoods of all those people who have money in the bank are just as important as my welfare.”

“Not to me!” Severus said in exasperation, “Nothing in this world is as important to me as you and Luke.”

“That’s not completely true, Severus. Your promise to Dumbledore outweighs everything. You know that we can’t live a normal life together until you have fulfilled your obligation to him, to Lily and to Harry.”

“You knew all that before you agreed to marry me,” he told her taking a step in her direction. “You knew the risks and the way we would have to live. But this!” he gestured angrily in her direction, “This action of yours increases the danger tenfold – and you didn’t discuss it with me, or even tell me what you were doing! I had to find it out from our enemy.”

“If you didn’t know then the Dark Lord wouldn’t find out from you,” she said calmly.

He stopped just short of where she was standing and stared at her in disappointment. “Do you truly believe that I am unable to keep secrets from him after all these years of doing so?” He reached out to her and gently touched her face, “Do you think so little of my occlumency skills? Or is it me you think so untrustworthy?”

“No, Severus, no,” she said in distress, “I trust you implicitly and in the spirit of telling you all my secrets,” Azalea continued in an effort to compensate for her apparent lack of trust and to divert him from the argument, “You should probably know that the wand the Dark Lord took from Dumbledore’s grave was mine.”

“Yours?” he said in confusion dropping his hand back to his side.

“When I first arrived at Hogwarts, Dumbledore lent me a wand which had been his sister’s,” she explained. “On the day of his funeral I thought he might like to take something to his grave that had belonged to someone he loved, so I swapped them. I still needed a wand so I kept the one he had been using.”

“So you’ve got the Elder wand,” he said in amazement. 

“It’s just a wand, Severus. I’ve said before that the power of magic is in the person, not in the wand. The Dark Lord is a powerful wizard so any well-made wand should serve him.” She smiled wanly and took his hand in hers, “Now I’ve given you some more information to hide from the Dark Lord.”

“No, you’ve shown me that you trust me,” he said gently squeezing her hand. “But please Leah, I beg you, don’t exclude me again. I can protect you if I stay close to the Dark Lord but if I don’t know that he is seeking you I won’t know what to look for.”

“Severus, I fear that the Dark Lord already knows of my existence. Ever since the day of Dumbledore’s death I have felt exposed in some way, as if some form of protection was no longer there.” Severus pulled her into a hug and held her tightly, his anger quite gone. Her words had echoed those of Voldemort, and despite the fact that he just urged Azalea to confide in him and tell him everything, he kept this from her. She gave a short laugh, “I think our best protection would be make sure that Harry defeats the Dark Lord.”


	79. Theft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of a very long day for Azalea.

Summer term began and with it several students, including Ginny Weasley, failed to return. Snape had to report their absence to the Ministry because attendance at Hogwarts was now compulsory. Hagrid had also gone missing. At the end of the previous term he had foolishly hosted a “Support Potter” party in his own house. Snape had been told that the party was taking place. He had felt obliged to report it to the Ministry before the Carrows did but he had asked Azalea to go and break it up and give Hagrid and his guests advance warning. By the time the Death Eaters arrived, Hagrid was on the run with Gawp, his giant half-brother. There were no guests to be seen, just scattered plates and cups, the food spread out over the garden, already being pecked at by a flock of crows which flew up like a black cloud and cawed at the Death Eaters whilst they fruitlessly searched the premises.

Tonks gave birth to a baby boy. Azalea went to see the newborn and returned feeling broody but stuck by her decision that it was the wrong time for her and Severus to have more children.

Snape’s problems at school increased when students started to go missing. The first one to disappear was Neville Longbottom. Snape knew that Longbotton, Lovegood and Ginny Weasley had been the leaders in low level insubordination by the students and, where he could, he turned a blind eye or raged in apparent impotency to catch the culprits. With Lovegood and now Ginny gone, the Carrows guessed that Longbottom was behind a lot of it and came down on him hard. During one particular Muggle Studies lesson, Alecto Carrow had been telling the students that muggles are just dirty, stupid animals and Longbottom asked her how much muggle blood she had. He had been punished by a slash to his face. Azalea had healed the injury but left the scar. 

One of the reasons for compulsory attendance at school was so that the students could be used to force good behaviour on their relatives outside. In the case of Longbottom the Death Eaters tried to kidnap his grandmother. The Death Eater they sent for her was not particularly powerful and was easily defeated by the redoubtable old witch, who was now on the run herself. Snape had met Mrs Longbottom in the past and could well imagine her robustly defending herself, despite her outward attitude she was devoted to her grandson and was proud of the action he was taking within Hogwarts, a pride that Snape shared.

Snape often spied on the Carrows by using the Marauder’s map. He had noticed that when they wished to plot schemes they closeted themselves in a seldom used room. He would make his way to their location and eavesdrop on their conversation. In this way he discovered that when they had realised they could have no hold over Longbottom through his grandmother they planned to get rid of Longbottom by sending him to Azkaban. Snape asked Azalea to warn Longbottom, who promptly disappeared. 

In the days that followed Neville’s disappearance other students went missing. First it was Michael Corner, after the Carrows had viciously tortured him for releasing a first year who they had chained up. Afterwards Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown, the Patil twins, Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan, and Anthony Goldstein failed to turn up for classes. Snape confided his fears about their fate to Azalea.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I know where they are; they haven’t even left the school grounds.”

“That cannot be correct.” he replied, “I scan the marauders map every day and their names are not on it.”

Azalea said, “Do you remember the first time we made love?”

He smiled fondly, that day was etched is his memory as one of the best and happiest days of his life. “I remember,” he replied.

“The door we found that led to the honeymoon suite? I’ve been along that corridor dozens of times since then and there is no door, but the room does exist. The house elves call it the “Come and Go Room” but to the students it’s known as the “Room of Requirement.” It’s one of the secret magics of Hogwarts. If someone is in need of something and says the correct words to open it, the room becomes kitted out with the objects that you require. In our case, I was primarily looking for somewhere for us to hide but I also had another need on my mind at the time, so the room opened up to me being both somewhere to hide and furnished so that I could have my wicked way with you!” she said ending with a smile.

“I’m glad you were in need of your wicked way and not of a toilet,” Severus replied returning her smile, “Otherwise we might not be where we are now.”

“It’s lucky I’ve got a strong bladder,” she joked. “But back to the missing students. They have worked out how to get in the room of requirement and they are using it as a hideout. The only thing it won’t provide is food.”

“It wouldn’t, food is one of the five exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration,” said Severus and Azalea was aware of how much magical theory had passed her by in her truncated magic education. She’d ask him another time what the other four exceptions were.

“I’ve told the house elves to supply the students with food from Hogwarts kitchen. I hope you don’t mind,” she said.

“Not at all, I’ll sign off the food bill without questioning it,” he replied.

Azalea didn’t explain exactly how the food was getting to the students. When a tunnel had opened up linking the Hogs Head Pub to the room of requirement, Aberforth Dumbledore had contacted her asking for her assistance. This was how she had discovered that the students were hidden in the room of requirement. She agreed with Aberforth that she would arrange for Winky to bring food for the students but it was best if they thought the food was coming from Aberforth, they might be suspicious if they knew someone in Hogwarts had found out about their hiding place.

\--oOo—

It was the first day of May; Azalea was at Gringott’s bank and had just finished a meeting with Mr Gringott when the shrill sound of an alarm split the air in the room. “That’s the burglar alarm,” said Mr Gringott in surprise, “I’ve never heard that go off except to test it. Something’s going on!” He leapt out of his chair and rushed from the room shouting at his assistant to find out what was happening as he passed him. The assistant was on the intercom before his boss had finished his instructions. 

Azalea followed Mr Gringott from the room and when they arrived in the main corridor there was complete pandemonium. A horde of goblins armed with swords and shields were running hell for leather down towards the vaults and several were lingering at the entrance to Mr Gringott’s office appearing to be unsure what to do in these circumstances. Mr Gringott’s assistant ran up to Mr Gringott and said breathlessly, “Intruders, thieves – they are at the Lestrange vault and have taken Bogrod and Griphook as hostages.”

“Take me to the vault,” ordered Azalea to the assistant. 

“Do it,” confirmed Mr Gringott, “I am too old to go chasing after thieves. I’ll deal with the situation from my office.” He strode back to his office issuing orders to the goblins waiting at the door as he passed them.

Azalea followed the assistant down several levels of stairs, thinking that if Griphook was here so might be Harry. But what was so important to Harry that he was attempting the impossible by breaking into Gringott’s secure vaults in broad daylight? The assistant burst out of a door on one of the lowest level, the corridor they had entered was packed with armed goblins. Azalea levitated so she could look over the heads of the crowd. At the front she could see Griphook running towards the goblin guards, shouting “Thieves! Thieves! Help! Thieves!” He was holding tightly on to the sword of Gryfindor which Azalea recognised as the real one. A gap opened in the goblin horde and Griphook ran to safety within its confines. Looking further down the corridor towards the Lestrange vault, Azalea gasped as she saw Harry clutching a small battered-looking two handled cup; Ron and Hermione were standing behind him. The three of them were launching “stupefy” spells at the advancing goblins. Azalea swiftly cast a shield spell around herself for protection from being hit.  


Suddenly a roar that made the rocks tremble came from the direction of the vaults. A blast of flame shot over the heads of the guards and Azalea dropped to the ground just before it reached her. As the echoes of the roar subsided, Azalea cautiously levitated again. Ahead of her she could see an enormous ancient looking dragon, its scales pale and flaky, not like the vibrant colours and smooth scales of the dragons she had seen during the first task of the Triwizard competition. Heavy chains tethered its legs to the ground. How long had this unfortunate animal lived like this? Imprisoned in perpetual darkness, with barely room to stretch its wings let alone fly.

She watched incredulously as Harry cast a spell to break the chains that bound it and he clambered onto the dragon’s back quickly followed by Hermione and lastly Ron. As Ron reached his place and clung on, the dragon realised it was no longer chained and with a mighty roar it soared to the top of the chamber and launched itself down the tunnel belching fire and slashing with its foreclaws to enlarge the tunnel as it sought to escape. Azalea flew after it, keeping well clear of its tail thrashing from side to side as it scrambled crazily upwards in the narrow tunnels searching for the sunlight and freedom. She saw the three young wizards on its back start firing spells to help make the tunnel larger as they went. Azalea did not aid them in case she accidentally hit the dragon or its passengers. Finally it emerged into the entrance lobby of the bank. The wizards and goblins waiting there shrieked and ran for cover. The dragon stretched its wings and charged through the lobby knocking into columns as it went and forced its way out of the metal doors leaving them buckled and hanging off their hinges. Once outside in the street the dragon roared in jubilation for its long denied freedom and launched into the air, with Harry, Ron and Hermione clinging on. 

Azalea did not follow them, she could trace Harry later by the pouch he was wearing. Right now she was needed at Gringotts. The damage the dragon had made in the entrance lobby was severe, several of the columns supporting the roof had been smashed to pieces and others were in danger of imminent collapse. There were too many people in the lobby to evacuate before the roof fell in. Azalea stood in the centre of the lobby and raising her wand to the ceiling, she shot a beam of golden light to the ceiling; it spread swiftly over the ceiling like glue being poured from a bottle until the pieces of the ceiling were held together only by Azalea’s spell with her standing in the centre supporting it like a giant umbrella. “Wizards!” she commanded, “To me! Repair the columns!”

As one the wizards in the room moved towards her and, understanding her requirements, raised their wands and began the task of repairing the columns. Spells rained down on the columns still standing and the cracks in them melded together as if they were clay on a potter’s wheel. As each column was repaired Azalea felt the weight of the ceiling decrease and she could spare some attention to directing the wizards as to the best order in which to fix the columns. Once the roof was supported enough to prevent an immediate collapse she left the glue spell in place and turned her attention to the shattered columns lying in pieces on the floor. She visualised how they should look and cast a spell towards one, the pieces rose into the air and reassembled themselves like a three dimensional jigsaw puzzle, the cracks merging together, into a perfect column. Some of the other, more talented wizards, were performing the same spell and before long all the columns were reassembled. Azalea had found the work exhausting and she could see tiredness on the faces of the other wizards but their work was still not done. “Wizards,” she said, “we need to repair the roof panels, they are only held temporarily; once that is done the building will be safe.” Wearily dozens of wands were pointed up at the roof and red beams shot out from the point of the wands carefully tracing around the edges of the cracks like welding torches working in unison and binding the broken pieces together. 

The task finally finished, the wizards lowered their wands and sank to the floor to rest. To their great surprise, dozens of goblins appeared carrying food and drink, as if they were house elves, and offered it to the wizards in grateful thanks for saving the building and the lives of those within it. Azalea took a long drink from a glass of lemonade and with a final flourish of her wand, straightened the metal entrance doors and rehung them on their hinges. She walked out through the doors she had just repaired anxious to return to Severus and tell him what had just happened. 

Azalea disapparated to Severus’ quarters but he wasn’t there so she tried his office, he wasn’t there either. She checked on the marauder’s map he wasn’t in Hogwarts. ^^Severus^^ she called.

^^I’m busy. Speak later^^ came his terse reply and she did not press him, he would get back to her when he could. 

Azalea remained in his chambers and whilst she was waiting she had the idea to check if the cup she had seen Harry clutching was the cup of Hufflepuff. 

When Severus had moved into the headmaster’s chambers he had brought all his books from his old office with him and they now filled the shelves in the study. He had also inherited the books left by previous head teachers. Azalea looked along the titles of the books and took down a copy of Hogwarts – a History. There was a reference and an illustration of the Hufflepuff cup and the cup Harry had taken from Gringotts was indeed the Hufflepuff cup. Azalea also looked up the Diadem of Ravenclaw, the illustration showed it to be a pretty thing, a delicate gold circlet. The text in the book said it had been lost shortly before Rowena Ravenclaw had died and remained lost until this day. Azalea replaced the book on the shelf and took down another book to see what the book collection included. This one was a potion book that was obviously Severus’. He had made notes and suggestions for improvements in the margins in his neat handwriting. She smiled and chose another book at random. This had a battered cover and was on the subject of magical properties and uses of plants. The book fell open at the page about lilies. It was covered with writing - words written over words, most of them she couldn’t make out but she could decipher the odd word or phrase – “love”, “beauty”, “guilt”, “shame” and something heavily crossed out. The names Lily and Sev entwined together in a heart but struck through it was the name “Potter” breaking the heart into two segments. Around the heart was scrawled the death eater sign. Azalea closed the page, this was personal, it was like reading someone’s private diary; even so she still flicked through the rest of the book. Towards the beginning of the book she glimpsed more handwriting and stopped at that page. This was the page about azaleas. Across the top was written in capital letters – “POISON – AVOID FOR FEAR OF ADDICTION”. Further down were the handwritten words, “the most beautiful flower in the world, to be loved, cherished and protected at all costs”. There were doodles around the edge of the text printed in the book, stylised azaleas, potion pots and rainbow colours shooting from a wand. The names Leah and Severus were surrounded by an unbroken chain and squeezed in between their names and the edge of the chain was the word Luke. Azalea felt a wave of love flood through her when she looked at the page and she shut the book and returned it to the place she had found it. 

She heard the door to the apartment open and left the study. Severus came in, she rushed over to him and embraced him in an enthusiastic hug, which he returned. He pushed her back to arm’s length and looked at her appearance. “What happened to you? You’re covered with dust and is that a cut on your face?” he said anxiously.

Azalea put her hand to her face and it came away with a smear of blood. “I was at Gringotts, there was an incident,” she said in an understatement, “Where were you when I called?”

“I was with the Dark Lord,” he replied quickly. “He was in a rage about some trouble at Gringotts. He had been lashing out and killing anyone who got in his way when he heard the news. What happened at the bank?”

“There was a robbery.”

“A robbery?” he said in amazement, “At Gringotts?”

“Yes, it was Harry, Hermione and Ron. They stole the Hufflepuff cup and escaped on a dragon.”

“Typical Potter,” he said automatically, “Always the show off and drawing attention to himself.”

Azalea ignored his comment and asked, “What did the Dark Lord want?”

“He told me that Potter might try to re-enter Hogwarts but he wouldn’t say why, just that I should let him know the instant Potter turned up.” Severus made the connection with Voldemort’s anger and the object that Azalea said had been stolen from Gringotts. “It’s the horcruxes!” he exclaimed. “The Dark Lord said he had some things to check first. I’d stake my life on the theory that his horcruxes have been destroyed and he’s going back to check on the others. The Hufflepuff cup is one and there must be another one at Hogwarts.”

“The Ravenclaw diadem,” said Azalea. “It’s got to be, it fits the pattern. The Dark Lord must have found and hidden it here! Now he thinks Harry is on his way to get it. Wait, I’ll check to see where Harry is,” she said, “assuming he’s still wearing the pouch I put a trace on.” She swiftly cast the spell then turned to Severus in horror. “Harry’s in Hogsmeade, he’s already here!”

“Never mind that,” said Severus urgently. “Once the Dark Lord discovers the other horcruxes are gone he will come to Hogwarts. He could be here within hours. You’ve got to take Luke and get away from here! Go back to Stevenage, you’ll be safe there.”

“I’m not leaving you to face the Dark Lord on your own,” Azalea declared. 

The pair of them glared at each other, neither one wanting to give way, Severus knew he would not persuade her to change her mind. Finally he said, “We’re not leaving Luke here.” 

“No, we’re not,” she agreed at once. “I’m going to ring Lucy and ask her to take him until this is over. Winky and Benny should go too,” she said and left the room to go use the muggle telephone she had once used on her first day at Hogwarts. 

She returned a few minutes later with Luke, Winky and Benny. “Lucy’s happy to look after them. I underplayed the danger to us somewhat but she knows that we’re concerned that there might some trouble at Hogwarts and we want to keep Luke out of it.” She quickly assembled some clothes, nappies and other baby supplies including a travel cot and Luke’s pushchair. She then changed her own clothes, washed the dust and dirt from her face and healed the small cut on her cheek. There was no point in adding to Lucy’s concerns by turning up looking dishevelled.

She passed Luke to Severus saying to the baby, “Say goodbye to Daddy. You’re going to stay with Lucy for a while.” Severus took his son and as he did so Luke babbled “da da da da.” Azalea laughed and commented, “See, he knows who his Daddy is. Why do babies always say dadda, before they say mamma?”

“It’s easier for babies to say dadda than mamma,” replied Severus logically, (he had read up on child development). “It’s just a sound, I doubt he knows what he’s saying.” Despite this explanation, Severus was touched by his son attempt at calling him Daddy. He held Luke and spoke softly to him. “Now, you be a good boy for Lucy. Mummy and Daddy need to get rid of a bad man, but once he’s gone the world will be a safer place and then the three of us will live happily ever after.” He hugged Luke and pulled Azalea into an embrace with them. “Mummy and Daddy love you very much” he whispered, suddenly assailed with a fear that he wouldn’t see his son again and this could be the last time they were together as a family. Azalea was oblivious to his fear and ended the embrace taking Luke from him, kissing Severus as she did so.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said as she put Luke in his pushchair. She and Winky collected together their belongings, Benny held Winky’s hand and the group disapparated, leaving Severus alone with his fears.


	80. Travellers Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Harry returns to Hogwarts Severus needs to find him to pass on Dumbledore's instructions.

As soon as Azalea had left to take Luke to Lucy’s, Snape went to the head teacher’s office to talk to Dumbledore’s portrait. “Albus,” he said urgently. “It begins. Today the Dark Lord was in an intense rage about a theft from Gringotts. It was Potter and his friends who were the thieves. The Dark Lord has told me that Potter will try to get into Hogwarts and when he does I am to tell him immediately. Albus, if you have any information to help me with this please tell me.”

As Snape explained the situation, one by one the other portraits began to take note of what he was saying. 

Dumbledore smiled to himself, “It would seem I was correct and Harry has solved the puzzle. He must be very close to the end if Voldemort is so anxious. I knew I could count on Harry to persevere.”

“What puzzle, Dumbledore?” asked Snape impatiently. “What does Potter seek in Hogwarts that enrages the Dark Lord so much?”

“Severus,” said Dumbledore, “Have you yet told Harry that he is to die at Voldemort’s hand?”

“Of course I haven’t!” exclaimed Snape. “When have I had an opportunity? Since you died I’ve been Potter’s bitter enemy, he would never believe me if I said he was to let the Dark Lord kill him. He would assume it was a ploy from the Dark Lord. It’s a task you should have done whilst you were alive. You know the boy would do anything you told him to.”

“Headmaster Snape is correct,” said Phineas Black’s portrait to Dumbledore, “You left him an impossible task.”

“You have played your part well, Severus,” said Dumbledore, “Perhaps too well. But you must find a way to convince Harry to do it, as I know he will when he understands the need.”

“But why Dumbledore? Why does he need to die in this way and what does he seek at Hogwarts?” pleaded Snape banging his hand on the desk in agitation.

“It is enough that you know of your need to tell him. I can’t tell you the whole reason, you are still too close to Voldemort. You could be forced to tell Voldemort what you know.”

“I have lasted this long, keeping many secrets from him,” said Snape sitting on the desk and facing Dumbledore’s portrait.

“Now you have a wife and child to protect. Any information I give you is on a need to know basis,” said Dumbledore peering at Snape over his glasses.

Snape turned white with fury and jumping up from the desk shouted at Dumbledore, “You dare to use my love for my family against me? If the Dark Lord were to threaten them I would not have the information to save them. Do you truly wish to see him kill a baby so that you can save Potter? Even Potter would not agree to that!”

“No, Severus, I do not wish the death of any more innocents on my conscience, least of all your child. It is imperative that Potter knows what his duty is and you need to let him know, if you wish to guarantee the safety of those you love,” replied Dumbledore sadly.

“There are no guarantees in this life,” commented Snape sharply, “but I will find a way.” He left the room without turning back. 

Once outside the office he wondered why he had bothered to ask Dumbledore to tell him the full reason for Potter’s actions, even after his death the former headmaster still didn’t fully trust him. He could only act on the theory that he and Azalea had arrived at - that Potter was seeking and destroying the horcruxes in which the Dark Lord had hidden his torn up soul. But why did Potter have to die and why did it have to be at the Dark Lord’s own hand? Snape thought back to the occasion that Dumbledore had told him of the need for Potter’s death. Dumbledore had said that some of Voldemort’s soul had lodged into Harry and it was this that bound the two of them together and was the reason that Voldemort couldn’t die until Harry did. Snape had interpreted this as Potter being another horcrux. It was certain that the Dark Lord didn’t know. But why did it have to be Voldemort who killed Potter? Surely his death by any means would have the same effect, the destruction of the fragment of the soul. Snape assumed that Dumbledore was just being theatrical in forcing Voldemort to unwittingly destroy himself. Snape had confidence in Dumbledore’s motives and if the death of Potter had to be at Voldemort’s own hand then he would do his best to ensure that events turned out that way.

However, understanding the reason did not make the task of telling Potter any easier for Snape but he did need to know when Potter made an appearance at Hogwarts. He knew that if he asked the Hogwarts staff they would never tell him, the only ones who might were the Carrows. With great reluctance he sought them out and told them that the Dark Lord believed Potter would show up at Hogwarts tonight and if they discovered him they were to tell Snape at once. It would be Snape’s duty to inform the Dark Lord.

After he had spoken to the Carrows, Snape started to patrol the corridors with frequent reference to the marauder’s map. He was near the Slytherin common room when Azalea snapped into existence nearby. She looked up and down the corridor, it was late and the students should be in their common rooms, seeing it was empty she approached Severus and greeted him with a kiss. They walked side by side down the corridor. “Winky and the children are with Lucy, they are as safe as they can be,” she said and hesitated before continuing. “I gave Winky a letter, to give to Lucy and it says what to do if we both don’t make it.”

Severus stopped walking and regarded her steadily, “it mustn’t come to that. If the situation arises when I can’t be saved, then leave me, save yourself and go back to Luke.”

“How could that situation arise, Severus?” asked Azalea and continued to walk. “If you look at it logically whichever side wins, so do you. If Harry defeats Voldemort, then I can vouch for you and so could Dumbledore’s portrait. If, heaven forbid, Voldemort won, he still trusts you and we could carve out some sort of life together in his service.”

“Provided he never discovers that you are his granddaughter,” Severus cautioned. “And don’t forget that I will have everyone at Hogwarts school and the order of the Phoenix members trying to kill me. It won’t be as easy as you believe.”

“I don’t believe it will be easy.” Azalea took hold of Severus’s hand. “I heard the prophecy about Harry and Voldemort, it said that “either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other one survives.” I know that it will be Harry or Voldemort or perhaps both who will be dead before this ends.”

Keeping hold of her hand Severus led her into a nearby classroom and shut the door. “Leah,” he said seriously, “it’s worse than that. Dumbledore told me that Harry must allow Voldemort to kill him.”

“No!” she gasped, “why would Dumbledore say that? He spent years protecting and educating Harry, why would he have done that knowing he had to die. What did Harry say?”

“He doesn’t yet know,” replied Severus. “Dumbledore tasked me with telling him.”

“Harry would never believe you. Dumbledore should have told him,” protested Azalea.

“Perhaps he meant to, but his death came sooner than he expected,” said Severus drily.

Azalea took hold of both of Severus’ hands and faced him. “The entire prophecy is “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.” 

“How long have you known the full prophecy?” he asked out of curiosity.

“I heard in the hall of mysteries, when the orb containing it broke. Voldemort believed only Dumbledore knew the full prophecy so I thought it best not to mention it to anyone,” she said. “The only clue in the prophecy to Dumbledore’s thinking about Harry dying is that Harry will have a power unknown the Dark Lord.”

Azalea had never mentioned to Severus that she had heard the full prophecy but with events as they were now, it really didn’t matter to him. “Azalea, I hate to ask this of you,” Severus said extremely reluctantly, for he had promised himself he would never Azalea to do this but the stakes were too high and time too short now. “But if I am unable to tell Harry, will you do it?”

“What?” she said horrified, “Tell my cousin to die? Severus how could I?”

“You’re not telling him to die, the decision will be his,” he said with tears springing into his eyes at her reaction and he hated himself for having to ask her. But in his heart of hearts he knew if he had to choose between Potter’s death or the death of his wife and child, he would choose Potter. 

“I’ll only do it as a last resort,” she whispered persuaded by his unshed tears, “when all else is lost and there is no other option.”

“Thank you,” he replied and drew her into an embrace. “Leah, I want you to know how much I love you.”

“I already know, Severus,” she murmured into his chest.

“I want you to know that these past three years I have spent with you have been the best years of my life. You have made my world complete. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that I could find someone like you to love and who loves me in return. Whatever happens in the next few hours or days, nothing can take that away from me.”

Azalea lifted her head and looked lovingly into his dark brown eyes, “Whatever happens nothing will ever take me away from you. I’ll love you for eternity. I’m glad I met you , I’m glad that we are married and I thank whatever brought us together every time I look at our son, without you he wouldn’t exist.”

“Leah,” he said quietly and they came together in a long kiss that said more than words ever could. 

Finally they broke apart and Azalea changed the mood and returned the subject to the peril they were in. “Severus, I think I should go the infirmary and stock up on potions and other medical supplies that we may need if it comes to fighting. Do you mind if I take supplies from the potions store? I can then make some potions using my quicker method.”

“Take all you need, my love. In the circumstances I think your quicker method is entirely appropriate. Even if it is cheating,” he said with a faint smile.

Azalea started to leave the room but a thought occurred to her. “Is Harry here yet?” she asked.

Severus consulted the marauder’s map. “No, but the Gryffindor common room and dormitory seems to have a lot fewer people in it,” he remarked.

Azalea did a quick scrying spell. “He’s not in Hogsmeade anymore.” She glanced at Severus. “He must be in the room of requirement. The Gryffindor students have obviously had word that he’s here. Can you see where they are?”

He searched for the Patil twins, Michael Corner and Lavender Brown, knowing of their support for Potter “No, they seem to be missing as well.”

“In that case they must all be in the room of requirement. It’s probably best if you don’t go there – you may scare them away. I’d better leave now and start to make potions and medical supplies. You’ll call me at once if you need me, won’t you?” she asked as she stood in the doorway.

“Yes, I will. You do the same, you know I’m only a thought away,” Severus said.

“I will. See you later,” she said leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

Snape remained in the classroom listening to the sound of her footsteps growing fainter as she receded down the corridor. He looked at the map again and noticed that Amycus Carrow was walking purposefully towards a particular destination. Another movement on the map caught his eye, he had enchanted it to alert him when Potter’s name appeared and now it had. He was on the fifth floor and he was not alone, he had Luna Lovegood with him. Snape watched the direction they were taking and he could see they were heading for the Ravenclaw tower. He saw that Alecto Carrow was already in the Ravenclaw common room. He looked again at Amycus Carrow, the direction he was walking led him towards Ravenclaw and he would be there within a couple of minutes. Snape recalled Voldemort’s agitation and anger and his conviction that Potter would come to Hogwarts. Azalea was obviously correct that the horcrux must be connected to Ravenclaw. He put the map back in his pocket and hastened towards the tower.

He was about half way there when he felt the dark mark on his arm burn. He increased his speed - this could mean only one thing, Potter must have been intercepted by the Carrows. For what other reason would they risk alerting the Dark Lord? As he hurried towards the Ravenclaw tower he saw a silver cat rush past him. He recognised it as Professor McGonagall’s patronus, it didn’t stop to speak to him and he guessed that Minerva was not seeking him. He pulled the marauder’s map out and consulted it, inside the Ravenclaw common room were both the Carrows, seemingly unmoving. He sought out Potter’s name and saw him with Luna and Professor McGonagall coming down the stairs from the Ravenclaw tower, soon they would be on the same floor as him. He shoved the map back in his pocket, and holding his wand he waited until they came into view. He saw only Minerva but the map had clearly shown her to be accompanied by Potter and Lovegood who Snape assumed were hiding under the invisibility cloak owned by Potter. Minerva halted and Snape ducked behind a suit of armour.

“Who’s there?” she asked.

He stepped out from behind the armour saying in a low voice, “It is I. Where are the Carrows?”

“Wherever you told them to be, I expect, Severus,” said Professor McGonagall.

“I was under the impression,” said Snape, “that Alecto had apprehended an intruder.”

“Really?” said Professor McGonagall. “And what gave you that impression?”

Snape made a slight flexing movement of his left arm, where the Dark Mark was branded into his skin.

“Oh, but naturally,” said Professor McGonagall. “You Death Eaters have your own private means of communication, I forgot.”

Snape ignored her comment and studied the air around her, if only he could use Azalea’s eyes now he would see where Potter was hiding but he had no time, or inclination to involve her. He searched with his own eyes looking for the slight distortion in light where the invisibility cloak would be. He needed to find Potter and give him Dumbledore’s message. As he looked he continued to talk to distract Professor McGonagall. “I did not know that it was your night to patrol the corridors, Minerva.”

“You have some objection?”

“I wonder what could have brought you out of your bed at this late hour?”

“I thought I heard a disturbance,” said Professor McGonagall.

“Really? But all seems calm.” The dim lighting in the corridor was not strong enough for him to detect the change in the light to see where Potter was hiding. Reluctantly Snape felt he had no option but to use legilimancy on Professor McGonagall. He looked into her eyes. “Have you seen Harry Potter, Minerva? Because if you have, I must insist —” 

Minerva moved with lightning speed, her wand slashed the air in front of him. 

Severus and Azalea had spent many hours practicing duelling with one another. Severus had, at first, expected to teach her but he had learned as much from her as she had from him. With her skill at seeing the colour of magic, she had advance warning of the spells he was about to cast and her speed at defensive and retaliation spells was instantaneous, his reactions had developed as a consequence. Now that practice saved his life. He instinctively threw up a shield charm to protect himself, he had no desire to injure Minerva. The shield was so strong that Minerva’s spell was deflected away from him and she was thrown off balance. She brandished her wand at a flaming torch on the wall which became a ring of fire that filled the corridor and flew like a lasso towards Snape. 

He fired a counter spell at the lasso and altered it to a black serpent which he sent back in her direction but McGonagall changed the serpent to smoke and the smoke to a set of daggers which she launched at Snape. He forced the suit of armour in front of him as protection and heard the daggers clang into it. He was appalled, if any of those had hit him they would have done real damage, unlike the black serpent he’d sent to her which would only have bound her like a rope. 

He heard the squeaky voice of Flitwick shout “Minerva!” Snape risked a glance from behind the suit of armour and saw Professors Flitwick and Sprout sprinting up the corridor still in their nightclothes, with Professor Slughorn panting along at the rear. “No!” squealed Flitwick, raising his wand in Snape’s direction. “You’ll do no more murder at Hogwarts!” Flitwick’s spell hit the suit of armour and with a clatter it came to life. Snape struggled free of the crushing arms and sent it flying back toward his attackers. He knew he could stand and fight but he didn’t want to injure any of his colleagues or Potter who was still hiding under the invisibility cloak. On that matter, an invisible enemy’s actions could not be seen or anticipated, Snape had little doubt that Potter hated him enough to use his invisibility to capture or even kill him. Snape had yet to pass on his message from Dumbledore to Potter, this was not the time or place to make a valiant last stand; his only option was to retreat. He ran at full speed through the nearest classroom door, shot a spell at the window, the glass breaking and falling outside like sparkling sharp pieces of ice, he leapt out and flew away, he could hear McGonagall’s voice shouting after him “Coward! COWARD!”

He flew to the boundary of Hogwarts, mentally thanking Azalea for teaching him how to fly without a broomstick; a skill he had passed on to Voldemort as a demonstration of his loyalty. Voldemort had been seen to fly in this way ever since. Once at the boundary, Snape landed and prepared to disapparate to Malfoy Manor to await Voldemort’s orders. Before he did he contacted Azalea. ^^Leah, I’ve had to flee Hogwarts. They think me a traitor and a coward.^^

^^I know you to be no coward,^^ she responded, ^^but I’d rather have you as a live coward than a dead hero.^^

^^The battle will shortly begin. I implore you once more to leave Hogwarts and save yourself, my darling.^^ he begged knowing it was likely to be fruitless but needing to ask her anyway. 

^^Not yet, that time had not arrived. I will stay and help the wounded. I can be your eyes and ears about what is happening here in Hogwarts.^^

^^I, in turn, will let you know the enemy’s movements,^^ he promised.

Azalea replied ^^Be safe, my love, and come back to me when this is done.^^

^^Without hesitation I will return to you, even death will not keep me away,^^ he replied, cut the connection and disapparated to put on his other face as a loyal Death Eater.


	81. Preparations

Azalea was in the potion classroom when Severus had contacted her. She had enlisted the help of the house elves who were weighing and sorting ingredients into cauldrons and she went along the row of cauldrons making the potions using her quicker method of seeing the colour of spells she was casting to arrive at the colour of the potion. Once she had made the potions the house elves bottled and labelled them.

Her contact with Severus cut and she felt a sense of emptiness and loss. She had no time to dwell on that before she was aware of a feeling of major magic taking place. She heard a mighty banging and crashing sound from all over the Castle and the walls and floors shook as if something had smashed into the building. A flicker of colour outside caught her eye and she went over to the window and looked out. She could see a stream of powerful magic coming through a broken window on the fifth floor of the castle, the magic coalesced into a barrier covering the entire castle like a dome. It reminded Azalea of the protection over Shell Cottage but this was different, stronger in some way. Scotty and the other house elves were looking out of the window too. “What is it?” she asked them.

“Protection for Hogwarts,” said Scotty. “House elves know of this but none here ever see it. Only used when Hogwarts in great danger.”

“Voldemort,” whispered Azalea, there was little point in not saying his name now. “He’s on his way now isn’t he?”

The door of the classroom opened and Azalea swung around to see who had entered, as one the house elves disappeared, out of ingrained habit they did not like to be seen by the human occupants of Hogwarts except under extreme conditions or if ordered to by their master. Professor Slughorn charged through the door looking as if he had dressed in a great hurry, unlike his usual immaculate appearance, he stopped when he saw the room was not empty. “Azalea!” he exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”

Azalea walked back to the tables where she had been working on the potions. “I’ve been stocking up on potions and medical supplies. I’m afraid I’ve used up all the supply of turkey tail fungus. ”

Slughorn waved away the last comment and asked, “Have you made all these alone?”

“No, the house elves helped with the preparation and bottling.”

He picked up a bottle of burn ointment. “This takes three days to make,” he said. “I know we don’t have this much left.”

“Oh, I used my quicker method,” she said.

“Quicker method?” he asked with professional curiosity.

“Yes, look.” She stood over a cauldron in which the house elves had already placed the ingredients for a potion. She visualised the colours, waved her wand and spoke the incantation. As Slughorn watched he saw the contents of the cauldron merge, bubble and change into Skelegro, a potion to repair broken bones.

“Amazing!” he said in awe. “I’ve only ever heard legends of people who can do that. You really are a most remarkable witch.” He seemed to recall why he had come into the classroom and started unlocking cupboards. “Don’t let me stop you, carry on.”

“Horace, what’s going on?” she asked as he pulled things from the cupboards and put them quickly in a bag he had produced from somewhere. “Why is there a protective shield over the school and what was that banging and crashing noise I heard a few minutes ago?”

“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is coming,” he said continuing to pack his bag. “The headmaster has fled, some say to be by his side; Professor McGonagall and the heads of houses are putting in place the protections for the school – the shield and the animation of the statues and suits of armour. We are evacuating the students and anyone else who wishes to leave. I’ve already alerted the Slytherins and everyone is to assemble in the Great Hall.” He paused and spoke directly to her, “You should go to the Great Hall so you know what is happening. Azalea, anyone would understand if you needed to leave, you have your child to look after.”

“Luke is already in a place of safety,” she said. “Horace, are you staying?”

She could see indecision cross his features. “Anyone who tried to cross He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will be in danger. I’m not going to stop anyone defending Hogwarts and neither will I interfere.”

“You need to do more that Horace,” said Azalea forcefully, “You need to actively fight. Get your students to safety by all means, but then come back and help defend Hogwarts. If we can stop Voldemort tonight, here at Hogwarts, then the rest of the wizard world will be safe. Those of us who make a stand tonight will go down in history as saviours and heroes. We need a wizard of your calibre, Horace. You are of more use to us here fighting than cowering away and running in fear.”

“If I stay and fight and we lose, then I will be running in fear from the Death Eaters,” he said anxiously.

“Yes, as will the rest of us. But you will have done the right thing. You know this Horace. You are not a bad man, just a little weak. Find some courage and stay, please.”

He threw the final items into his bag and without a further word he left the room.

Azalea quickly bottled all the remaining potions and ointments she had made, gathered them up and took them with her to the Great Hall. The Hall was packed, the students were assembled by their house tables. Professor McGonagall was standing on the raised platform at the end where Azalea had spent so many hours at mealtimes. On the platform were the teachers and members of the Order of the Phoenix – Kingsley Shacklebolt, Remus Lupin, and the Weasley family - Fred and George, Molly and Arthur, Bill and Fleur and a slim bespectacled young man with a strong family resemblance who could only be Percy Weasley. Azalea stood to the side of the hall with neither the students nor the teachers. Professor McGonagall was issuing orders – the younger children were to be evacuated by way of the tunnel linking the room of requirement with the Hogshead Inn at Hogsmeade. Madam Pomfrey and caretaker Filch to take charge of the arrangements. McGonagall told the students who were of age that they may stay and fight. Azalea looked across at all the young people assembled in the hall, did those thinking of staying really know what they were letting themselves in for? Did she really understand? It was one thing to practice duelling with Severus or Filius, but quite another to aim to kill. She saw someone skirting along the side wall and when there was gap in the assembled people she recognised him as Harry, gasps of recognition followed in his wake. Professor McGonagall continued her instructions. “We have already placed protection around the castle but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your prefects —”

But her final words were drowned as a different voice echoed throughout the Hall. It was high, cold, and clear: There was no telling from where it came; it seemed to issue from the walls themselves. “I know that you are preparing to fight, your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter,” said Voldemort’s voice, “and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded.”

“You have until midnight.”

There was complete silence as the final words trembled on the air. Suddenly a girl’s voice screamed from the Slytherin table. “Potter’s there! Someone grab him!” Azalea recognised the speaker as Pansy Parkinson, a particularly unpleasant sixth form girl. Azalea had treated many younger students who had been subject to her discipline. Pansy’s demand to give up Harry had the opposite effect to what she had intended, all the students on the Gryffindor table rose as one body, withdrew their wands and surrounded Harry, glaring in defiance at Pansy Parkinson. The Huffflepuff and Ravenclaw students followed suit. McGonagall ordered the Slytherins out first and the evacuation began in earnest. Slowly the four tables emptied. The Slytherin table was completely deserted, but a number of older Ravenclaws remained seated while their fellows filed out; even more Hufflepuffs stayed behind, and half of Gryffindor remained in their seats, necessitating Professor McGonagall’s descent from the teachers’ platform to chivvy the underage on their way.

Azalea watched as Kingsley stepped forward to talk to those who had remained behind. “We’ve only got half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast! A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix. Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall are going to take groups of fighters up to the three highest towers — Ravenclaw, Astronomy, and Gryffindor — where they’ll have a good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells. Meanwhile Remus Lupin, Arthur Weasley and I will take groups into the grounds. We’ll need somebody to organise defence of the entrances of the passageways into the school — 

“Sounds like a job for us,” called Fred, indicating himself and George, and Kingsley nodded his approval.

Azalea watched them all organise themselves into groups and saw Harry rush out after Professor McGonagall had reminded him he was supposed to be looking for something. Azalea had not been assigned a task but took it upon herself to organise the infirmary and medical needs for the casualties. She told Kingsley what she was doing and located Madam Pomfrey, who was still supervising the evacuation, both of whom thanked her. 

With the help of the house elves Azalea busied herself preparing the infirmary. The thirty minutes to surrender Harry given by Voldemort ticked away. Many of the students would be home by now and telling the story of what was occurring, Azalea waited for reinforcements to start arriving – parents and friends of the students. Nobody came but Neville’s formidable grandmother. Surely the wizard world wasn’t going to leave its fate in the hands of a few teachers and adolescents, half of whom wouldn’t even be legally adult in the muggle world, none of whom had received proper military training? 

Azalea decided she wasn’t going to let the same thing happen for the medical support. She left the house elves with instructions to carry on in the infirmary and she disapparated to St Mungo’s Hospital to seek help. Julian Burbage volunteered immediately wanting to make sure his mother’s death had not been in vain and to help those who may be injured. Azalea left the organisation of medical volunteers with the administration of the hospital and she and Julian returned to Hogwarts. 

By the time they returned the thirty minutes was up and already the casualties had begun. Azalea asked the house elves to act as stretcher bearers and bring the injured straight to the infirmary. The elves ability to disapparate within Hogwarts meant there was as little delay as possible in dealing with the injured. Being healers Julian and Azalea did not distinguish between treating friend or foe but took the precaution of confiscating the wands of any Death Eaters they treated and had also sectioned off part of the infirmary and converted it to a secure area.

Madam Pomfrey finished supervising the evacuation. The route to the Hogshead Inn was now closed after several Death Eaters had managed to enter Hogwarts that way. Azalea received word via a patronus from the administrator at the hospital that the volunteer healers from St Mungo’s were ready to come. The house elves were busy with the injured so Azalea went to the hospital and brought them straight back to the infirmary because, unlike Azalea and the house elves, they were still prevented from apparating in and out of Hogwarts. The seriously injured casualties were taken straight to St Mungos by the house elves accompanied by a healer. Once the healers arrived Azalea and Madam Pomfrey left them to work in the infirmary. As they were better acquainted with the layout of the school Poppy and Azalea sought out people who required stabilising before they could be moved. 

Azalea had heard reports of fighting in the vicinity of the room of requirement and she apparated directly there. The fighting was over by the time she arrived but there had clearly been an explosion and the debris filled the corridor. She could see something dark scurrying over the fallen masonry under which she could see a body. She glided forwards and was soon able to make out that the black movement she saw were dozens of enormous spiders pouring into the building through the gap in the wall. She waved her wand and the fallen masonry rose into the air and sealed the rupture in the wall. No more spiders would enter that way. Azalea was not someone who was fearful of spiders and as a rule she would not kill them, but these spiders she could not allow to live, already several of them had pounced on the body that had been revealed when she repaired the wall. Using her hands she threw a widespread killing spell used on vermin down the corridor and the swarm of spiders fell instantly lifeless the floor. She rushed over the exposed body, it was a death eater and he was dead, a quick examination showed her that he had died when the explosion crushed him under the rubble and not as a result of a spider bite. 

Azalea had a sudden concern for Harry’s safety, she cast a scrying spell and it located him in a nearby corridor. She followed the spell to the location indicated and it led her to a tapestry, which she knew covered a flight of stairs leading to other floors. The sound of fighting had faded away and she crept up to the tapestry, she could voices behind it. The first voice was Hermione’s she was pleading. “Ron, we’re the only ones who can end it! Please — Ron — we need the snake, we’ve got to kill the snake!” 

The snake, thought Azalea, why do they need to kill the snake? She heard Hermione crying but taking deep breaths to compose herself Hermione said “You need to find out where Voldemort is, because he’ll have the snake with him, won’t he? Do it, Harry — look inside him!”

Azalea stiffened and paid attention. She knew that Harry had some link to Voldemort this must be why Harry had been so well informed about the Dark Lord’s movements and intentions. She waited and there was silence behind the curtain, but the sound of battle was now coming closer. Azalea hid herself with a disillusionment spell. She heard Harry gasp and say “He’s in the Shrieking Shack. The snake’s with him, it’s got some sort of magical protection around it. He’s just sent Lucius Malfoy to find Snape.”

“Voldemort’s sitting in the Shrieking Shack?” said Hermione, outraged. “He’s not — he’s not even fighting?”

“He doesn’t think he needs to fight,” said Harry. “He thinks I’m going to go to him.”

“But why?” asked Hermione. 

“He knows I’m after Horcruxes — he’s keeping Nagini close beside him — obviously I’m going to have to go to him to get near the thing —”

Now it made sense to Azalea, the snake was a horcrux too! Possibly the only remaining one, it had to be killed before Voldemort could be destroyed. But Voldemort wanted Severus for something. Azalea had an intuition that such a meeting would not go well for Severus. Hermione, Ron and Harry were in a heated discussion about who would go to the Shrieking Shack and confront Voldemort. Their argument was cut short by the sound of a voice coming from behind the curtain roaring “POTTER!” Azalea flung open the curtain and took in the scene at a glance. At the top of the next flight of stairs were two masked Death Eaters, wands clutched in their hands, in front of her Hermione had magically altered the downward flight of stairs to a chute and the three teenagers were sliding down it. Azalea leapt onto it following the three, the Death Eaters were firing spells down at them which Azalea deflected as they all shot downwards. They tore through the tapestry curtaining the bottom of the staircase and Hermione cast a spell behind her turning the tapestry to stone. There was a sickening crunch on the other side as the two pursuing Death Eaters crashed into it. Despite her healer training to be impartial Azalea left her enemies to their fate and stayed with Harry.

Harry had thrown the invisibility cloak over himself, Ron and Hermione and the trio were now making their way out of the building. To Azalea the invisibility cloak shone like a beacon and she had no trouble following them. She ran behind them down the next set of stairs, and straight into a crowd of people duelling, students and teachers against Death Eaters. Azalea shot a few spells to assist and distract but did not stop, not even to help the injured. She felt a pang of guilt but for now her priority was trying to protect and help Harry as he raced to face Voldemort. She convinced herself she had played her part in helping the wounded by getting the volunteer healers to come to Hogwarts and now she could look after her own family members. She saw that Hagrid had returned from wherever he had fled after his Support Potter party. Before she had a chance to speak to him he was engulfed under a mass of spiders, like the ones she had killed earlier, Harry kept on running and she followed trusting that Hagrid’s giant heritage would save him from the onslaught. They continued to run down towards the forest, and were halfway there when the air suddenly became cold and a hundred dementors shivered in place in front of them. 

Azalea felt the beginnings of despair creep through her bones, but another memory overtook that. The memory of having a frozen soul. She heard Hermione shout “Patronuses! Harry! Come on!” Azalea saw a terrier and an otter shaped patronus appear and fade, but then a silver hare, a boar and a fox soared past as Luna, Ernie and Seamus arrived to help. Azalea was dimly aware of the new arrivals encouraging Harry to think of something happy but she knew it would not be enough - six people against a hundred dementors. Azalea levitated into the air and flew around to be behind the approaching dementors. She pushed the despair to one side with ease and allowed the empty, callous emotion she had experienced when her soul was frozen to flood through her. The dementors were now blind to her, there was no despair or unhappiness coming from her. She raised her wand and thousands upon thousands of bees flew from her wand and attacked the dementors from the rear. The bees surrounded them, Azalea moved her wand in a harsh slashing motion and the bees dived, stinging the dementors forcing them to lose their integrity and their shape, until there were only fragments left drifting down to the ground. The frontal attack by the teenagers was boosted by the appearance of Harry’s stag patronus which forced the remaining dementors to scatter and flee. Azalea drifted back to the grass, her intervention had gone unnoticed by the other defenders. Now the dementors were gone, her body memory of the frozen soul faded and she felt her normal emotions seep back. 

A roar and an earth shuddering tremor came from behind her and a giant lurched out the darkness towards them. Luna, Ernie and Seamus had already returned to the fight indoors. Harry, Ron and Hermione decided running away was the best option and ran towards the large tree known as the Whomping willow. Not wanting to lose them Azalea followed close behind. The tree branches whipped around in a vicious motion unconnected to the weather conditions, it was a tree that Azalea usually avoided. She wondered why they were running towards it with such speed. She saw them fire a spell at a spot on the trunk and the branches ceased their movement. At the base of the tree Azalea could see a small opening like the entrance to a burrow. She saw Harry squeeze through it, followed by Ron then Hermione. Azalea shrugged to herself and went in behind Hermione. The tunnel was low and narrow and she had to crawl along on her hands and knees, all the time keeping far enough back so that Hermione would not hear her or be aware of someone behind her. Azalea could just make out a spot of light from Hermione’s wand that she was using to light her way, but Azalea had to crawl along in darkness. At last the tunnel started to move upwards. Azalea heard Hermione whisper to Harry to put on the cloak. Once he had the cloak on it was much easier for Azalea to make out where he was. She could hear the faint murmur of voices but they were too muffled for her make out what was being said. Harry stopped at the top of the tunnel, where Azalea could make out a faint sliver of light as if something was blocking the exit to the tunnel. It seemed that Harry could go no further. Ron stopped, Hermione stopped and Azalea had no choice but wait in line, seeing and hearing nothing, until Harry was free to move out. She shifted herself into a sitting position in the cramped tunnel and in the silence and warmth of the tunnel, tiredness overtook her and within moments she had drifted into a light doze.


	82. The Final Hours of Severus Snape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No prizes for guessing what this chapter is about!

Snape apparated to the gates of Malfoy Manor. He had ran out of options and places to go if he wanted to continue to fight in the battle. He could run back to Spinner’s End and lay low, but that would be a cowardly thing to do, he must see this through to the end.

He walked swiftly up the path to the Manor and let himself into the house. As he opened the door he saw a shadow in the entrance lobby and he held his wand in readiness to defend himself. He spared a second to switch on the light which illuminated the shadow and he saw it was Narcissa. She lowered her wand in relief when she recognised him. “Severus, is everything all right at Hogwarts? Draco? Where is he?” she asked anxiously.

“Potter has come to Hogwarts, I was forced to leave. Draco was still there when I left, but I’m certain that evacuation of the students will be the first thing that Professor McGonagall will organise,” he replied, adding ruefully, “She seems to have taken charge.” He looked around the lobby and noticed how quiet it was. “The Dark Lord is away?” he asked.

Narcissa gave a curt nod. “He is in such a rage as I have never seen before. He has flown off saying he had one last place to visit and upon his return he will destroy Harry Potter.” Narcissa grabbed onto Snape’s arm and said urgently, “Severus, you are the only one he listens to now, you must stop him from destroying Hogwarts and everyone in it just to kill Harry Potter.”

He put his hand over hers and said confidently, “I will not let him destroy Hogwarts and those in it. I would die before I let that happen.” 

Narcissa led him out of the lobby and to a small study. Lucius was inside and gave a startled jump when the door opened. Seeing it was his wife he relaxed a little but glared at the person accompanying her. Snape noticed at once the change in Lucius, he had a haunted look about him, he was unshaven, the yellow stains of old bruises were evident on his face, his clothes were shabby, bordering on ragged. Gone was the self-assured, arrogant man that he had once been, Snape felt sympathy for him. The Malfoys had endured months of Voldemort’s constant presence in their home. They must have been afraid of saying the wrong thing but worse, even thinking the wrong thing. Their only son had been forced by Voldemort to torture prisoners and to try to kill Dumbledore. For the first time, Snape understood why Dumbledore had not wanted Draco to be responsible for his death and Snape finally forgave himself for his own role in Albus’ death. He felt a great weight lift from his shoulders. Had he not killed Dumbledore it could be him trapped here with the ever present malign influence of Voldemort, chipping away at his confidence and resolution. Instead he had gained the isolation and relative safety of Hogwarts. He spoke to Lucius, “I see the Dark Lord has treated you ill.”

“It is only what I deserve,” Lucius replied automatically, not trusting Snape to pass on any hint of complaint to Voldemort. “I have failed him.”

Snape left the subject alone and stood by the window looking out. It was dark and the stars twinkled in the spring sky. Narcissa came and looked out of the window with him. “It was such a lovely view over the garden from here once,” she said. “We could see fairies playing in the fountain, their colours reflecting in the spray like a thousand fireworks. They’ve gone now and all we have is darkness.”

“They’ll be back, Narcissa, when all this is over. When the Dark Lord no longer needs your house and can choose to live where he pleases,” Snape told her softly.

“The Dark Lord is welcome to stay here for as long as he wishes,” put in Lucius, still suspicious of Snape trying to entrap him into admitting that the Malfoys would be disloyal to Voldemort. 

“I shall be sure to remind him of that, should the need arise, Lucius,” Snape said gently.

He and Narcissa were still looking through the window when a swift movement came up from the gates, a pale spectre flying with the moonlight reflecting in sickly white. “The Dark Lord returns,” muttered Narcissa nervously.

Snape strode from the room saying to a fearful looking Lucius, “I’ll speak to him. I need to let him know how things stand at Hogwarts.” The Malfoys let him go.

Snape returned to the hall and arrived at the same time as Voldemort burst in through the front door. The door slammed behind him causing the wall to shake and the crashing sound echoed through the house. “My Lord,” said Snape evenly by way of a greeting.

Voldemort stopped in the centre of the hall and stared at the person who had spoken. “Snape, why are you not at Hogwarts?” he enquired in a seemingly casual way but the undertones hinted at displeasure.

“Potter has returned, he is hiding in Hogwarts and the staff refused to turn him over to me, perhaps they did not know his whereabouts. I had to flee in fear of my life.” Snape took a step closer to Voldemort and continued to speak, “I have no fear of dying in your service my Lord, but I think I could better serve you alive. I will return to Hogwarts if you desire.”

Voldemort stared into Snape’s dark eyes and could detect no fear or untruth in his mind. “No, Severus, I do not require you to give your life for me yet. I intend to attack Hogwarts and flatten it to the ground. I have called my supporters and already they converge on Hogwarts.”

“My Lord, before you flatten Hogwarts perhaps you should give the occupants the opportunity to hand Potter over to you, without the need for fighting.” Snape suggested.

“My followers are not afraid to fight for me,” Voldemort said and Snape could hear a flicker of impatience with him in the Dark Lord’s voice.

“Of course not my Lord,” he continued smoothly, “but Hogwarts is defended by teachers and children. In my experience, parents are unaccountably fond of their children, if you flatten Hogwarts without warning many children will die and you will make enemies of their families. Your transition to power will be easier the fewer enemies you make on the way there.”

“You speak sense, as always, Severus. It is why I value your counsel. I shall give them thirty minutes to hand Potter over to me. Accompany me to Hogwarts.” Voldemort ordered and Snape had no option but to go.

They stood at the gates of Hogwarts, Voldemort had Nagini draped over his shoulders. Snape could see that the defences to Hogwarts had already been deployed, there was a large protective shield over the building but Snape knew it needed constant reinforcement by an experienced wizard which would take one of the staff, probably Filius, out of the fighting. Surrounding the school were hundreds of statues and suits of armour that had been animated to protect the school and its occupants. Voldemort laughed when he saw the defences. “Is that the best they have?” he said mirthlessly, “The statues and armour will fall at the first spell that hits them. Look around, Severus, see those who have already answered my summons.”

Snape looked around the outside of the grounds and his heart sank. Dozens of Death Eaters were waiting for the order to attack. Standing with them were packs of werewolves, although as it was not a full moon they weren’t at their strongest but a formidable enemy nonetheless. The sound of crashing assailed his ears and looking further into the distance he could make out the shape of enormous shadows working their way closer. The giants were coming. The defenders were outnumbered and out gunned. He hoped against hope that Azalea would leave when she knew the situation was hopeless.

Voldemort started to speak, his voice amplified so that it carried, cold and clear to all parts of the school “I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded.

You have until midnight.”

Voldemort’s voice echoed to a stop and he turned to Snape. “You may observe the battle from the rear. You need not engage the enemy, I have sufficient troops here to fight, your use to me lies elsewhere. I will send for you when I need you.”

Snape gave a brief bow and did as instructed. Midnight! That was a mere thirty minutes! How much preparation and evacuation could Minerva organise in half an hour? He hoped it was enough. He went to the rear of the battle lines and sought out a quiet corner to consult the marauder’s map. The first person he looked for was Azalea. She was in the infirmary with Poppy and - he did a double take when he saw the name Burbage before he realised it was Julian Burbage, not Charity. Of course it couldn’t be Charity, she was another innocent casualty of Voldemort’s war. At least Azalea was safe and alive for now and getting additional healers on hand to deal with the expected causalities. He hoped someone was seeking reinforcements for those preparing to fight. He saw a huge crowd of students trooping towards the spot where he knew the room of requirement was located. He recognised the names of the younger students and was pleased to see that Graham Pritchard was among them, as they entered the door to the room their names disappeared from view. Clearly Minerva was using that way to evacuate the students. Perhaps the reinforcements would come in by the same route. Next he sought out Harry Potter, to his surprise Potter was with the Grey Lady, the ghost of Ravenclaw Tower. Snape knew that the Grey Lady was the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw, she had fallen out with her mother over something and was never reconciled before Rowena’s death. If Potter was talking to her it must mean that the other horcrux was indeed the diadem. Snape continued to pore over the map, not moving from where he was sitting. He saw Azalea dissaparate from the infirmary and return with more healers.

He heard the sounds of chimes coming from a bell tower somewhere in the distance as midnight struck, the musical sound of the tune at complete odds with the event that midnight portended. He saw Hagrid’s name appear on the map and join Potter running through the castle. He saw Professor Sprout with Longbottom in her wake running towards the greenhouses, no doubt she had some plants in there that would double up as projectile weapons. He saw Aberforth Dumbledore appear from the door the students had left by, he saw Tonks come through followed by Mrs Longbottom, Neville’s grandmother. Then nothing, nobody else came in. Was that it? He was horrified. Was that the extent of the reinforcements to fight the huge army Voldemort had assembled at their doorstep? Potter’s name came into view with Weasley and Granger, they entered the room of requirement and were lost to his scrutiny. He saw Draco Malfoy, with his accomplices, Crabbe and Goyle follow them into the room of requirement. Snape waited to see them emerge, six had gone in but minutes later only five came out. The missing student was Crabbe but Snape had little sympathy to spare for him. 

He returned his attention to Azalea. She had left the infirmary which was now walking the corridors stopping at the unmoving names not doubt to administer first aid. He saw her name appear near the room of requirement, she stopped by a name he didn’t recognise he concluded it was a Death Eater, Azalea left it where it was and he assumed there was one fewer Death Eater to fight that day. Azalea moved further down the corridor and he followed her footsteps, she stopped by a flight of stairs at the top of which he could see Potter, Weasley and Granger standing close together. They hadn’t noticed Azalea but suddenly all four of them rushed rapidly down the stairs and into the passage on the next floor down closely followed by a pair of Death Eaters. The Death Eaters stopped suddenly at the base of the stairs never entering the lower passage. He sighed in relief that Azalea had escaped and watched her travel behind Potter. They ran through groups of people fighting in the corridors and ran into the grounds. He saw Luna Lovegood, Ernie Carmichael and Seamus Finnigan’s names appear and stand together. He saw Azalea slip round to position herself in front of them and stay unmoving. Potter, Grainger and Weasley stood by the side of the other three students and remained there. Snape could see no enemies’ names on the map but some names didn’t appear, such as the house elves. He deduced they must be fighting something not recognised by the marauder’s map. A strong movement behind Azalea caught his attention and all six of the students ran, three back to the school and three onwards towards the forest. Names appeared on the map, names he recognised as giantish names. Azalea fled with Potter towards the forest.

He heard a cracking sound behind him that preceded someone apparating. He faced the direction of the sound shoving the map into his pocket as he did so. Lucius Malfoy was framed in the moonlight. “The Dark Lord wishes you to go to him,” he said sulkily. Lucius hated being nothing more than a messenger but at least he had escaped the Dark Lord’s displeasure for a short while.

Snape noticed there were fresh bruises on Lucius’ face and one of his eyes was closed and puffy. He wondered what Lucius could have done is such a short time to earn yet another beating.

“Where is he?” asked Snape.

“I am to take you to him,” replied Lucius.

“Very well,” said Snape.

Snape appeared from a side by side apparation with Lucius and by the light of a single oil lamp, he saw he was in a ramshackle room, paper was peeling from the walls, the windows were boarded up and broken furniture was strewn around the room. He recognised instantly where he was – the Shrieking Shack. The last time he had been here was when Black had escaped from Azkaban and had been hiding out here. Snape rarely thought of those days now, the days before he met Azalea. At that time he had been almost deranged with his need for revenge on anyone who had been remotely involved with Lily’s death. He would have called the dementors to administer the kiss to Black, without considering Black’s version of the story: - that it had been Pettigrew who had betrayed Lily. Well, both Black and Pettigrew were dead now and he had Azalea who had brought a sense of perspective back into his life. Who knew how far down the road to insanity he would have gone without her? 

He turned his attention to Voldemort who was standing in the dilapidated room, as if he already owned the world and not just this tattered building. Beside him, encased in a transparent sphere, which twinkled like starlight was Nagini, Voldemort’s giant venomous snake, twisting gracefully in the protective cage he had made for her. Snape had never seen Voldemort be so protective of his snake and he concluded that the snake was also a horcrux.

“You may leave us, Lucius,” instructed Voldemort and Lucius apparated out before the sentence was completed.

“How goes the battle?” Voldemort asked.

“My lord, by all accounts it goes in our favour. If you would let me go the battle front I would be better able to report,” Snape asked eagerly. He didn’t want to fight on Voldemort’s side but if he was at the fore of the battle he would be better able to help the defenders in the confusion of battle than he could positioned at the rear, with only the one dimensional information he could infer from the marauders map. “My Lord, their resistance is crumbling.”

“— and it is doing so without your help,” said Voldemort in his high, clear voice. “Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there … almost.”

“Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please,” Snape begged in desperation. He needed to bring Potter to the Dark Lord and hope that in doing so he would have time to give Dumbledore’s message to the boy. 

“I have a problem, Severus,” said Voldemort softly, raising his wand and looking at it saying. “Why doesn’t it work for me?”

“My — my Lord?” said Snape blankly knowing full well why it didn’t work – it was not the Elder wand of legend. “I do not understand. You — you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand.”

“No,” said Voldemort. “I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand … no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago.”

Snape had a sense of great danger radiating from Voldemort, far more than he usually sensed. He wanted to re-assure the Dark Lord but for once didn’t have the words. He watched Nagini rotate in her cage. All the time he concentrated on the snake, Voldemort could not access his mind, force secrets from him and make him betray the woman he loved, the owner of the Elder wand. 

“I have thought long and hard, Severus. … Do you know why I have called you back from the battle?”

“No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter.”

“You do not understand Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I know his weakness, you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come.”

“But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by one other than yourself —”

“My instructions to my Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends — the more, the better — but do not kill him.” Voldemort had been pacing slowly around the small room but now stopped and watched Snape staring at Nagini. “But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable.”

Snape tried again to divert Voldemort’s attention. “My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But — let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can —”

“I have told you, no!” said Voldemort, “My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!”

“My Lord, there can be no question, surely — ?”

“— but there is a question, Severus. There is. I have used two different wands against Potter, my original one and Lucius’. Why did they both fail?” 

“I — I cannot answer that, my Lord,” stuttered Snape. 

“Can’t you? I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore.”

Snape finally looked at Voldemort, he had controlled his mind enough to hide his emotions so well that it was if he was dead behind his blank eyes. “My Lord — let me go to the boy —” he begged desperate to be away from here and to speak to Potter.

“All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here,” said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner … and I think I have the answer.” Snape did not trust himself to speak, his fear was intense. Voldemort continued in a conversational tone. “Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen. The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner.” Suddenly Voldemort’s intention became clear to Snape. “You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine.”

Even as Severus faced certain death the idea of betraying Azalea to save himself never crossed his mind. “My Lord!” Snape protested, raising his wand, he should strike down Voldemort. But long habit of deferring to the Dark Lord caused him to hesitate. 

“It cannot be any other way,” said Voldemort emotionlessly. “I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last.” As he spoke Voldemort swiped his wand through the air, Snape felt nothing; surely the Dark Lord had not missed at this close distance? Suddenly he saw that the spell had not been intended for him. Nagini’s cage rolled towards him and trapped his head and shoulders inside the globe. He heard Voldemort issue a short order in Parseltongue. The huge head of the snake loomed up and filled Snape’s field of vision, its enormous fangs protruding within its open mouth like broken stones. Snape screamed, he couldn’t help himself, death was coming for him and there was nothing he could do. His arms were trapped by the edge of the cage and he couldn’t move, not even to cast a spell from his wand to kill the beast or apparate himself away. He felt the sharp fangs pierce the skin in his neck and inject venom into his blood stream, the venom burned as it passed into his body, the fangs withdrew from his neck and a gush of warm blood came out from the puncture wounds. He fell to his knees, his arms still trapped in the sphere and he couldn’t staunch the blood. 

Somewhere in the distance he heard Voldemort say, “I regret it,” and the globe was lifted from his body releasing his body which slumped to the floor. His hands went to his neck trying to stop the flow of blood. 

Thoughts rushed through his head, so this is how it ends, bitten by a snake, in a dirty shack for control of a wand that was never his to command in the first place. Leah, he wanted Leah, he reached out to find her and touched her sleeping mind. She was so peaceful, snatching a nap in the chaos of battle, how could he wake her to give her the worst news he could? He wanted his last words to be of love and life, not death and loss, he left her to sleep. 

His world was becoming hazy, the venom in the bite had slowed down the flow of blood from the bites on his neck and he felt no pain. A movement in front of him caused him to focus his eyes; someone was bending over him. He concentrated to recognise the person who was in front of him. Green eyes swam into view, eyes behind black framed spectacles, it wasn’t Leah or even Lily; it was Potter come to see him at the end of his life. Severus had something to tell Potter something important, something he didn’t want Leah to have to say to him. Severus felt his life draining from him, he had no time to put what he needed to say into words. He forced memories from his brain and a white substance flowed from his head, mingling with the red blood seeping onto the dirty floor of the shack. He would only let Potter know what he needed to know, nothing about Azalea or Luke, he would not endanger them by association with Snape, the traitor. His memories of his family were precious and personal, no one would ever take those from him and he would not give them to Potter. He forced out only the memories he believed would convince Potter that he was telling the truth and to ensure that Dumbledore’s instructions would be obeyed. Severus grabbed the front of Harry’s robe, “Take… it… Take…it…” he made himself say and to his own ears it was sounded like nothing more than a gurgling noise. 

A flask appeared and another person came into his view, Granger. She handed the flask to Harry who picked up the silvery substance with his wand and filled the flask. Severus’s grip on Harry’s robe slackened. He had fulfilled his mission, passed on the vital information required to change the outcome of the battle. Now he wanted only one thing, he wanted Azalea but she wasn’t here. He whispered to Harry “Look … at … me. …”

Harry looked at the man dying on the floor in front of him. His green eyes meeting Severus’s black ones. Severus imagined it was Leah in front of him, Potter’s eyes did not have her loving look but they were filled with compassion for yet another person to die in his name. The hand that had been holding Harry’s robe fell to the floor and if Harry had been listening closely he would have heard the word “Leah” breathed out with Severus Snape’s final breath.


	83. Memories

Azalea woke with a start, she had been dreaming of Severus. She looked ahead of her in the tunnel, it was empty now, Hermione, Ron and Harry had left it. She crawled out and as she reached the exit she heard the voice of Voldemort echoing throughout the night air once more giving orders. She listened as he said that the defenders had a one hour reprieve from hostilities in order to treat the injured and in that time Harry Potter was to come to the Forbidden Forest to give himself up to Voldemort. 

Harry, Hermione and Ron passed her on their way back to the tunnel and she noticed that Harry was clutching a silver bottle. Azalea was still wearing a disillusionment charm and they didn’t see her. She pressed herself close the wall so that they wouldn’t accidently bump into her. As they entered the tunnel she manoeuvred herself past them into the room and looked into the room they had just vacated, in the dim light of the oil lamp she could see someone lying on the floor his empty eyes staring at the ceiling. She rushed over. “No!” she whispered as she got closer and saw who it was. ”Severus! Severus!” she screamed in anguish. 

Her healer training took over and she quickly assessed his situation, he was lying in a lot of blood but that didn’t necessarily mean he had bled to death. A trickle of blood was still coming from the wounds. She put her hand over the puncture wounds on his neck and sealed them up to prevent more blood loss. She recognised them as snake bites, the same ones she had once seen on Arthur Weasley when he’d been guarding the Hall of Prophecies. She knew that Voldemort had been here and he must have had his venomous snake, Nagini, with him and her bite could be fatal. When Arthur had been bitten by Nagini, Azalea had managed to extract much of the venom and then afterwards the healers had developed an antidote. She had her healer’s bag with her now but had nothing in there for poisoning, she hadn’t anticipated needing it in a conflict situation. “Fawkes!” she shouted urgently “To me! Come to me!”

She put her hand on Severus’s wrist and felt for a pulse and could feel nothing, his arm limp and unresisting. She shot a bolt of healing magic from her wand to try to start his heart by defibrillation, again she felt for a pulse, nothing. She ripped open Severus’ robe and placed her hand directly on his skin, over the scar she had been unable to prevent when Voldemort had punished him for failing to hear the full prophecy. She controlled her mind and focused her healing power through her hands and into his body, willing his heart to start beating, to beat for her, for Luke, for Harry, for himself, for a life snatched away too soon. No matter how much she tried the technique didn’t seem to be working as it had when she’d used it on Tonks after the battle of the ministry. She needed clarity of mind, she needed to distance herself from her emotions but this was Severus and her distress was too great and she couldn’t separate her grief from her work.

Instead, she placed her hands over his heart and started chest compressions in the muggle way, she stopped the chest compressions and put her mouth to his mouth trying to breathe air back into his lungs. She tried another bolt from her wand for defibrillation and returned to the chest compressions, alternating with mouth to mouth resuscitation. As she worked she spoke aloud and begged him to come back. “Don’t leave me Sev, please don’t leave me. I love you and I need you. Luke needs his father. Please Sevvie, please come back. Tell me the soppy thing you were going to say on your deathbed. You promised me you’d never leave me, that not even death would take you away. Don’t die, it’s too soon. You’ve only lived half a life, I want the other half to be with me. Severus, Severus, stay with me, stay with me. Come back to me!” 

Fawkes flew into the room, his red and gold plumage reflecting the dim light of the room and illuminating it with a cheerful presence that belied the sorrow of the situation. Fawkes saw at once why he was summoned and he landed by Severus’ neck and dropped a single tear onto the closed but livid red mark where Nagini’s fangs had punctured him. A phoenix’s tears had magical healing powers and could counter the most potent poison, even that of the basilisk, and snake venom was far less potent that basilisk venom. Azalea searched her bag and pulled out a medication which promoted the body to replace lost blood. Normally, a patient would be attached to a drip because the process caused dehydration but she had no time for that. She injected him with the serum and pulled a bottle of water from her bag, ready to give to him to drink when he recovered. She reached out with her mind to use their telepathic link, but she couldn’t find him, his silence unnerved her and she withdrew to concentrate on the physical things she could do to save him. She continued to pump at Severus’ heart augmenting it with her healing power and to give mouth to mouth resuscitation, she kept going until she was exhausted and dizzy from lack of oxygen where she had breathed it into him. 

There was still no sign of life from him. He hadn’t responded to anything she had done. She didn’t want to admit that she couldn’t save him, but healers were taught from the beginning that there would always be those they could not save. Fawkes stared at her with his golden eyes and she felt the hot rush of tears in her own eyes. She had failed, failed to save the man she loved. Now the recriminations started in her own mind, why hadn’t taken him to St Mungos, or even to the infirmary at Hogwarts. He might have stood a chance, instead she had thought to save him herself using untried techniques and thinking she had the skill and power to succeed where others had not. 

She sat back on her heels and let the tears flow freely. She shut his eyes which has partially closed whilst she had been working to save him. Never again would she able to look deep into his dark brown eyes or see the look of love reflected in them. She leant forward kissed him tenderly on the mouth, whispering “Goodbye my darling. You rest now, your work is done. I’ll take over. I’ll tell Luke what a brave and wonderful father he had, no one will ever forget the sacrifice that you made.” She pushed herself to a stand and looked at him lying there, as if he was just sleeping. She pulled out her wand, the one that Severus had died for, and cast a shower of magical sparks over him like a volley of shots that would be fired to honour a fallen hero. Before they fell to ground she disapparated from this place of heartache and loss, her last sight of him like an angel glowing in the star filled heaven. 

\--oOo—

Azalea appeared by the front door Hogwarts, it had been destroyed in the battle. Inside she could see the damage that the battle had done to the Great Hall, great chunks of plaster carved from the walls and the furniture in disarray. From inside she could hear the cries and moans of the injured, she knew she should help them but she had once promised Severus she would tell Harry that Dumbledore expected him to allow Voldemort to kill him; she didn’t know if Severus had found the opportunity to tell him. She had failed to save her husband’s life, she would not fail to pass on the information to Harry. Voldemort had already demanded that Harry meet him in the Forbidden Forest and Azalea knew that Harry would go to the Dark Lord rather than let anyone else die but Harry needed to know it was part of Dumbledore’s plan. Azalea cast her location spell to see where Harry was and was surprised to discover he was in Severus’ office, the head teacher’s office. 

Azalea glanced into the Great Hall and saw the healers, distinctive in their lime green robes, treating the wounded. Down the middle of the hall were laid out the dead. Azalea felt herself drawn to see who else had lost their lives that night, she saw most of the Weasley family in a group near one of the bodies, she approached them quietly and saw Fred lying there, next to him were Tonks and Remus, united in death after such a short time united in life. Near them was the body of a boy Azalea recognised as Colin Creevy, the boy who was an enthusiastic photographer, he didn’t have his camera in his hand and it was as if a part of him was missing. Azalea tears which had not yet dried for the loss of her husband flowed again and she knelt next to her friends and cried with loss and sorrow, thinking of a child orphaned at only a few weeks old, and Colin’s parents who would have to bury their oldest child, his life snatched away, more crimes for which Voldemort was responsible. No one came to speak to or comfort Azalea, they were all too consumed with their own losses. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and left the room heading towards the head teacher’s office and Harry. 

The gargoyle which normally guarded the office had opened the door and Azalea could see into the room. Harry wasn’t there, he must have left whilst she was in the Great Hall. She noticed that all the portraits were empty, Dumbledore’s included. Had they abandoned Hogwarts to its fate? She was about to scry for Harry’s whereabouts when she saw the silver glow of memories floating inside the pensieve. She walked towards it, the bowl had been empty a few hours ago when she and Severus were in the office. She wondered whose they were and how they had come to be here, without a second thought she thrust her face inside the bowl.

She felt herself falling headlong into whose ever memories they were. She landed in a playground, on a sunny day with two girls playing on swing. With a jolt of recognition she saw the girls on the swing were a young Lily, perhaps only 10 years old and Petunia a couple of years older. But it was the boy watching them from behind a bush that caught her attention. A scrawny boy in ill-fitting clothes, he looked thin and pale as if starved of the sun as well as food. He was younger than the last time she had seen him in a memory as a child, when he had summoned a swarm of bees that had attacked her, but without a doubt she was looking at Severus’ memories. The expression on his face as he regarded Lily made Azalea think he was also starved of company, a look of longing to be included was clear. Azalea watched as the boy that would grow up to become her husband meet and get to know the girl that would dominate and influence his life for so many years to come.

Their first meeting did not go quite as he had planned and ended in sharp words between Severus and Petunia before the girls stormed off. His next memories of Lily were better, he knew more about wizard life than Lily did and she hung on his every word, his confidence and assurance in his facts were obvious in the way he sat whilst talking to her. His memories moved on to their first journey on the Hogwarts Express, the sorting ceremony and his bitter disappointment that Lily and he were sorted into different houses – he into Slytherin, her into Gryffindor. There was a couple of years’ gap before the next memory of Lily remonstrating with Severus about his interest in the Dark Arts and the Death Eater cult, but when Lily mentioned that James Potter was an arrogant toerag, Azalea saw Severus relax and smile, he felt safe in her affections. The next memory was at the end of the OWLS, Severus was taken unawares by James and Sirius who used a jinx to hoist him ungainly upside down into the air. Lily came over to intervene but Severus was angry and embarrassed and snapped at her calling her a mudblood. The following memory showed Severus trying to apologise to Lily but she refused to accept it and threw his friendship back at him telling him she would no longer make excuses for his behaviour; that his interest in the Death Eaters meant he freely used the word mudblood as an insult. Azalea at last understood what had caused the rift between Severus and Lily and she wondered whether Lily ever realised that it was her action in pushing him away that had sent him fully into the camp of the Death Eaters. Sometimes her cousin was as blinkered in her opinions as Severus was in his towards James. 

The next memory was of an adult Snape begging Dumbledore to keep Lily safe after he knew that the prophecy about the one with the power to kill the Dark Lord referred to her son and she was in danger. Snape promised Dumbledore he’d do anything in return for Dumbledore’s help, anything. The following memory showed a broken, distraught Snape after learning that Lily had died and Dumbledore had failed to keep her safe. Azalea observed Dumbledore extracting a promise from Severus to keep Lily’s son safe. The next memories were of Severus many years later, well established in his teaching career at Hogwarts, his first impressions of Harry which were not favourable. Later a conversation with Dumbledore at the Yule Ball about the dark mark getting darker. Azalea remembered that night too, as the night she and Severus had first danced together in the garden and how she had felt content to be in his arms and had never wanted to leave. The memories rushed on – Severus trapping the dark curse in Dumbledore’s injured arm before Dumbledore asked Severus to kill him so that Malfoy would not have to carry that burden. Dumbledore at last telling Severus why they had been protecting Harry all those years, because Harry carried a piece of Voldemort’s soul within him and Voldemort could not die all the time Harry lived. The only way Voldemort could be defeated was for Harry to allow Voldemort to kill him. She witnessed Severus’ anger that Dumbledore had used him and the inference that Severus had always loved Lily, always. The final run of memories were after Dumbledore’s death, of Severus conversing with the portrait in the headteacher’s office, his involvement in the transfer of Harry from Petunia’s house to the Weasley house when he became of age, Severus’ accidental shooting of George Weasley. Another image of Severus in a vandalised Grimmauld Place crying over a letter written by Lily and clutching a photograph of her. The final memory was of Severus taking the sword of Gryffindor before he left his office to give it to Harry in the Forest of Dean. 

As the last image faded Azalea lifted her face from the pensieve. There was nothing in those memories about her and Luke. Seen through Severus’ memories Lily was more beautiful that Azalea had recalled her being in real life, with her auburn hair and bright green eyes, which had captivated Severus from the day he first met her and for James from when she blossomed into womanhood. If Azalea had only these memories to go on it would be as if Snape had lived his whole life for the love and loss of Lily Evans. It would seem he had died as he had lived – unloved and misunderstood. Azalea felt the sting of bitter tears fill her eyes, it wasn’t true. Severus was very much loved by her and Luke. Winky, Lucy and Beryl were fond of him. Most of Azalea’s friends thought he was a good match for her and liked him well enough. Why would he want to leave only this record of his life? Why would he not want people to know he had found love and happiness? Even so, these were the only copies of his actual memories that she had and she wanted to keep them, although they told just part of his story. She saw a bottle by the side of the pensieve, it was the bottle Harry had been carrying when he left the Shrieking Shack. The bottle that had contained the silver substance that was all that were all that was left of her husband. She scooped them up and refilled the bottle. Now no one else would see them, she would keep them safe.

“Keep them safe!” Of course that was why Severus had hidden his relationship about her and Luke, it was to keep them safe! He must have given these memories to Harry so that he could pass on Dumbledore’s instructions to Harry without making Azalea do it as she had promised to do. Beyond death Severus would not know how the battle would end and who else might see those memories. Azalea was filled with admiration for Severus, on the brink of death he had found the strength to filter his memories and give only those that told the story to Harry, giving him the information he needed to know, so that Harry would understand what he had to do and believe the truth and reason for Severus’ involvement and motivation. She wanted to cry again but she forced down her grief using the occlumency techniques she had learned from Severus, to hide away those feelings and memories in the deepest part of her mind, there would be time enough to mourn when the night was over. 

Now her priority was Harry. He was walking to his death, she had lost one member of her family tonight she didn’t want to lose another. But Harry had to die. She understood that Harry was a horcrux, harbouring part of Voldemort’s soul, the only way to destroy Voldemort’s soul was to destroy the thing it was hidden in – Harry. Why it had to be Voldemort who killed Harry she wasn’t quite sure but Harry would, by now, be on his way to meet Voldemort and his doom. She wasn’t certain she would be able to stand by and watch her grandfather kill her cousin, Harry still needed her help and protection and she would give it until the end.

She located him within the Forbidden Forest and apparated there.


	84. Resurrection

Azalea appeared deep in the Forbidden Forest, she had learned to muffle the sharp sound that heralded a wizard apparting at their destination and the sound was barely audible over the rustling of the leaves in the trees. The forest was likely to be crawling with Death Eaters so she took the precaution of using a disillusionment charm to hide her from their searching eyes.

She looked around, the forest was dark and brooding, she guessed that Harry would be wearing the invisibility cloak and she looked for its glow. She didn’t need to look far, ahead of her walking softly through the trees she could see a group of not-quite ghosts surrounding the invisibility cloak that must be concealing Harry. She levitated and glided over in silence. As she got closer she could see that there were four figures, they were more solid that ghosts but not as substantial as the living. She went ahead of them and turned to see who they were. With a jolt she recognised Lily (Azalea’s recollection of her cousin hadn’t failed her, she wasn’t as beautiful as Severus remembered but an attractive woman nonetheless); next to her was James with his untidy black hair and lopsided glasses, Harry was now the same height as his father had been; Remus was there too, his hair less grey, his clothes less shabby; finally there was Sirius, tall and handsome, looking happier than Azalea had ever seen. They surrounded Harry like an honour guard. But where was Dumbledore? Where was Severus? Surely their role in bringing Harry to this point was as important as the four with him? Perhaps it was a good thing that Severus wasn’t there, if he had been Azalea would have ran to him to beg him to come back to her, to have one final conversation, to tell him she loved him, to hear him say the same to her, she wouldn’t have found the strength to say goodbye. She stood to one side to let them pass. 

As they went by Sirius turned his head in her direction and she would swear he had seen her, he smiled at her and she heard his whisper, “The prophecy, the price you paid when you went beyond the veil means we know how we can help Harry.”

“Sirius,” she whispered back.

“Stay with Harry, to the very end. We cannot stay when he removes the invisibility cloak.” 

“I will,” she whispered. 

Sirius continued to look at her as she kept pace with them “Your prince among men is a fine man, you chose well, Leah. You would never have been happy with the broken man I was. I see that now.” 

“But he is gone from me too,” she replied sadly, her voice no louder than the breeze in the trees.

Sirius looked sharply over towards her but at the same time a thud and a whisper came from nearby and the group stopped. A voice spoke in a rough whisper, “Someone’s there, he’s got an Invisibility Cloak. Could it be — ?”

Two figures emerged from behind a tree. Azalea knew them to be Death Eaters but didn’t know their names. One of them looked at his watch. “Time’s nearly up. Potter’s had his hour. He’s not coming. We’d better go back. Find out what the plan is now.”

The pair headed off deeper into the forest, Harry, his ghostly companions and Azalea followed them knowing the Death Eaters would lead them to Voldemort’s exact location. Sirius and Azalea spoke no more, not wanting to alert the Death Eaters to the fact they were being followed. They led them to a large clearing, a fire burning at its centre illuminating the area. Voldemort was waiting by the fire surrounded by a crowd of silent Death Eaters. Behind Voldeort’s head, the great snake Nagini floated in a glittering, charmed cage. Two giants were on the outskirts and Azalea saw Hagrid tied fast to a tree. One of the Death Eaters they had been following spoke to Voldemort, “No sign of him, my Lord.”

“I thought he would come,” said Voldemort in his high, clear voice, which sent a thrill of horror through Azalea. “I expected him to come.” He paused momentarily and added, “I was, it seems … mistaken.”

“You weren’t.” Harry’s voice sounded loud in the silence. He had taken off his invisibility cloak and stuffed it under his robes. He stepped forwards further into the clearing and his ghostly companions vanished, Sirius sparing a beseeching look at Azalea to stay with Harry. Azalea noticed something small fall from Harry’s hand and she reached down and picked it up. It was a round black stone, smaller than a golf ball, down the centre ran a jagged crack, following the line of a carving on the face of the stone, either side of the line was a triangle encased in a circle, she could tell by the colours only she could see, that it was subject to a powerful enchantment. She kept a hold of it and slowly withdrew her wand from within her robes, she would be ready.

She heard Hagrid cry out loudly, “No! No Harry! What’re yeh…” before he was abruptly silenced by a spell cast by one of the Death Eaters. 

Voldemort and Harry stood facing one another across a short distance. Azalea, who was closer to Harry, could tell he was trembling with fear. Voldemort smiled a mirthless smile on his lipless mouth and Azalea shuddered at the resemblance between him and the giant snake swirling in the glittering cage behind him. “Harry Potter,” he said quietly, “The Boy Who Lived.” He slowly raised his wand. Silence fell in the clearing, the only sound the spitting of the fire. Azalea knew if she was going to act it should be now. But Harry just stood there bravely waiting his fate. Harry’s trust in Dumbledore’s judgement was absolute but Azalea’s wasn’t. If she saved Harry he would only try again to let Voldmmort kill him until he had fulfilled what he believed to be his destiny. He was ready now and his death would be quick and clean, Voldemort was in no mood to string it out. 

Standing by and doing nothing while her cousin was killed was the hardest thing Azalea had ever had to do, but she was a healer. If Harry had to die she would make sure he wasn’t dead for long and she would be there the instant he died - she might be able to save him in the way she couldn’t save Severus.

Voldemort mouthed the words “Avada Kadavra!” Green light shot out of his wand and for second time in his life Harry was hit by the killing curse. 

Azalea reacted instantly, before Harry hit the ground she was at his side. She knew that she could not disapparate with Harry to a proper medical facility, Voldemort needed Harry’s body to prove he had destroyed his nemesis. She had her wand in one hand and the black stone still held in the other, she felt his neck for a pulse, there was none. She fired a shot from her wand direct into Harry’s heart and then a second, hoping to start it by defibrillation. It hadn’t worked for Severus but she’d had blood loss and venom in the bloodstream to contend with in that situation. She felt for a pulse, it was there! Faint but there. She out her face by his mouth and to see if she could feel any breath coming out, at the same time she gently placed her hand on his chest and could feel it moving in and out and his heart beat was regular. He was alive! She had been in time. Relief flooded through her, she hoped the few seconds he had been dead were enough to destroy the fragment of Voldemort’s soul that was lodged inside him. 

A low murmuring from behind her caught her attention, she turned around and saw a crowd of Death Eaters surrounding someone on the ground and she heard Bellatrix’s concerned voice, “My Lord.” Azalea was still under her disillusionment charm and she left Harry lying on the ground and crept forwards. Voldemort was lying stunned on the floor but by now was starting to recover, fortunately the Death Eaters had been concerned with their leader’s fate and had not looked at Harry or seen Azalea’s spells to save him.

Voldemort regained his feet and demanded, “The boy… Is he dead?” Azalea insides froze, of course he’d want to be sure! She positioned herself to shield Harry and to be ready to fight with him as soon as Voldemort discovered that Harry was not dead. “You!” he ordered a woman with long blonde hair, “Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead.”

Azalea watched helplessly as the woman, who Severus had once pointed out to her as Draco Malfoy’s mother, knelt beside Harry and felt his heart. Azalea put the black stone in her pocket, leaving that hand free to cast wandless spells, her other hand gripped her wand tightly. The woman sat up and announced, “He is dead!” Azalea looked at her in astonishment, Harry wasn’t dead - his heart had been beating strongly. Why would the woman lie and risk Voldemort’s displeasure? Whatever the reason, Azalea had no time to ponder for the Death Eaters roared in jubilation. 

“You see?” screeched Voldemort over the tumult. “Harry Potter is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now! Watch!” Azalea saw the colour that preceded the crucio curse start to form at the end of Voldemort’s wand which he pointed towards Harry and shouted “Crucio!” Azalea’s reaction was instant. She couldn’t stop the curse but she shot her own spell to merge with his and changed it from the agonising, torture inducing curse to a lesser one. This was a defence that Severus had taught her – how to mitigate the effects of an unforgivable curse when duelling. Most wizards would never have the skill or the speed to do it but her ability to see the colour of magic gave her an edge.

Like a cat playing with its kill, Voldemort tossed Harry’s body into the air, once, twice, three times. Azalea wondered how Harry managed to stay so still and lifeless. As he fell to the ground she cushioned his fall so he wouldn’t break any bones. Voldemort, ever willing to inflict pain whether it was physical or emotional, ordered Hagrid to be untied and he was to carry Harry’s body back to Hogwarts to show the defenders what had become of their hero. Hagrid was forced to walk at the front of the procession, Voldemort lingered almost alone for a few minutes in the clearing whilst he undid the enchantments around his snake. 

Some sort of recklessness overcame Azalea, she keenly felt the loss of Severus and this man was responsible. Now that Harry had died and destroyed the final part of Voldemort’s torn apart soul there was nothing to stop him from dying. She wanted him to know his days were numbered. She removed the disillusionment charm and appeared in front of Voldemort, her lime green healer’s robes an unnatural contrast to the colours in the Forbidden Forest. Her appearance was unexpected and Voldemort was startled to see a woman unknown to him suddenly materialise. As he laid eyes on her a feeling of unease swept over him and his reaction was swift. “Nagini, attack and kill!” he ordered his snake speaking in parselmouth.

Azalea held up her hand, “Nagini. Stop!” she demanded in the same language. 

The snake stopped at once and looked between Azalea and Voldemort as if she wasn’t sure who to obey. She hissed a statement at Voldemort, “Master, she commanded me and I had to stop.”

“Return to your master,” Azalea spoke to the snake in parselmouth, “But you will not attack or kill me.”

Voldemort was intrigued, few things surprised him these days, continuing to speak in parselmouth he asked Azalea, “How do you speak parslemouth? That is a skill that only the heirs to Slytherin possess.”

Azalea stared at him impassively and replied, “The answer to that is simple,” she paused for several seconds before concluding. “Grandfather.”

The look of shock on Voldemort’s face was almost worth what was about to follow. “NO!” he screamed, “I am the last in the line of Slytherin! I am the one who has the power to cheat death. The Slytherin prophecy refers to me!!” His inhuman face was now distorted in rage and his red eyes flashed dangerously, a real madness was upon him. He pointed his wand at Azalea ready to kill her, her quick reactions and his confused anger saved her and she sprang out of range, deflecting the curse he had thrown at her as she moved away. Now was not the time to stay and fight, it was one of those times when flight was preferable. 

She heard Voldemort rave in fury and the sound of his wand fire faded as she flew. What Slytherin prophecy was it that had enraged him? Severus would have known and Severus had been correct when he had cautioned her about not telling Voldemort that they were blood relations. He had been right about so many things, she was going to sorely miss his wisdom and his guidance. However, Grandfather or not, Voldemort still had to pay for the death of her husband. 

In the clearing Voldemort had spent his anger. He saw a movement behind a tree and ordered the person hiding there to show themselves. It was Alecto Carrow, she and her brother had managed to escape from their bonds in the Ravenclaw tower - they might be thugs but they were wizards first. She emerged cautiously, the Dark Lord was always unpredictable when in a rage, but if she failed to respond to his order his reaction would be very predictable - she would be killed or punished. “Who was that woman?” he asked her.

“Azalea Bennett,” she replied, “She an ‘ealer at Hogwarts. Not a very good one either.”

“And is what she claimed true?” he asked quietly.

“I couldn’t understand what you was saying,” said Alecto nervously but wanting to shift the interrogation onto someone else she said, “She was always a bit thick with Snape. I’d often see them skulking together. ‘E’d know”

“Unfortunately, Severus is no longer able to answer questions. You may go.”

Not needing to be told twice, Alecto swiftly left and hurried after the rest of the Death Eater army that was following Hagrid to Hogwarts.

Voldemort slung Nagini over his shoulders and headed in the same direction. First things first, he thought. Potter is dead, I will subdue the remaining enemy at Hogwarts and then I can find and destroy the Bennett woman who claims to be my kin. I shall tell my followers not to kill her until I have interrogated her. I need to find out from her how she comes to be my granddaughter – I must have a son or a daughter and if they are still living they will have to be destroyed along with any other children they may have. Only then I will be secure for eternity and live for ever. 

Unaware what dangerous repercussions her moment of recklessness had potentially caused for her, Azalea flew ahead over the top of the Forbidden Forest. She saw movement along the edges of the path that the Death Eaters were making and could see the noble shapes of the centaur herd. Suddenly Hagrid bellowed to the leader of the centaurs, “BANE! Happy now, are yeh, that yeh didn’ fight, yeh cowardly bunch o’ nags? Are yeh happy Harry Potter’s — d-dead … ?” 

One of the centaurs, tall and with shining black flanks and matching hair, holding a bow in his hand as they all were, reacted to Hagrid’s insult with a scowl and shook his bow at Hagrid. Azalea landed within the trees and strode up to him. “My Lady,” he said with a brief bow. “We meet at last. We have followed your story in the stars.”

“I thought centaurs had little interest in the affairs of wizards,” she said.

“Your story and that of the Boy who Lived dominate the stars. We wish to witness the end.”

“Witness!” she exclaimed. “How does the story end?”

“The end is not definite but the portents show it will be today,” he said calmly.

“And you centaurs? Do the signs show you to be more than witnesses? Do the signs show that you came to the aid of the wizards in their hour of need? Do the centaurs stand aloof and watch the events from the side lines and be hostages to fortune when they could have participated and influenced the outcome? If Voldemort wins this battle he will not let you live quietly in your forest - he believes in wizard supremacy. Bane, if ever there was a time to cast your prejudices aside then this is it, for you can be sure Voldemort will never put his aside.” 

Bane stared at her as if weighing and appraising every word she had spoken, he gave no indication as to whether her words had fallen short of his expectations. “My lady,” he said finally, “I will allow each centaur to follow their own conscience in this matter. No one is to be shunned or praised for the decision they make.”

Azalea smiled, “Thank you Bane, I can ask no more.” The centaur retreated into the trees and was soon swallowed up by the darkness of the forest. 

Azalea was about to levitate to finish her journey when she heard a popping sound next to her and Winky appeared. Azalea’s first reaction was worry, “Winky! Are Luke and Benny all right?”

“Yes my Lady, they is both asleep at Mistress Lucy’s house.”

“Lucy? Is she all right?”

“Mistress Lucy is asleep too. They is all safe.”

Relief flooded through Azalea. “Why are you here, Winky? You should be safe with them too.”

“Winky is going back soon, my lady. Winky went to Gimmauld Place to tell Kreacher that Master Harry was in danger. No one tells Kreacher what is happening.”

Azalea had once asked Winky to visit Kreacher from time to time after Harry had been forced to suddenly leave Grimmauld Place, she was touched that Winky had continued to follow her instruction and had remembered to let Kreacher know what was taking place that night. “What is Kreacher going to do?” she asked.

“Winky needs to tell you that the house elves is going to fight and Kreacher will join them,” the house elf replied matter of factly.

“Winky, you won’t be joining them will you? Benny needs his mother.” Azalea said earnestly.

“Luke need his mother too,” Winky stated without a hint of judgement in her voice.

“I know he does and I want to go to him right now and hold him and never let him go. If I leave now, Winky, I won’t come back and I think that I am needed here. I believe my presence will make a difference. I must be sure that Voldemort is vanquished and that Luke has a safe world to grow up in. I must do what soldiers have done for centuries and fight for peace - for the future of all our children.”

“Yes my Lady. Scotty say that Winky must stay away and look after Benny. Master Severus must want my lady to stay away too,” Winky said not knowing that Severus was dead.

Azalea felt a stab of grief through her heart at these innocent words. “Severus would do his duty, I can do no less,” she told the house elf. “But please go back to Lucy’s house, I will call you if I need you.”

Winky nodded and left at once. Azalea took huge gasps of air to cover the sobs that were trying to make their way from deep within her broken heart. She pushed her grief away again and concentrated on the feeling of emptiness she had experienced when her soul was frozen. Once she had regained some control she made her way to the entrance to Hogwarts and awaited the arrival of the Death Eater army. She didn’t have to wait long. Voldemort was now leading his follows and magically amplifying his voice he announced in ear shattering volume to the defenders of Hogwarts. 

“Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.

“The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together.”


	85. The Battle

An anguished cry of “NO!!” rent the air and Azalea was shocked to see that it came from Minerva. Cries of “No! No! Harry! Harry!” also came from Ron, Hermione and Ginny, and Azalea longed to tell them that Harry was still with them and their grief would be short-lived, unlike hers. The remaining defenders of Hogwarts added to the cries by screaming and yelling abuse at the Death Eaters.

Voldemort shouted “SILENCE” and threw out a silencing spell to enforce his order. He commanded Hagrid to place Harry’s body on the ground and told the defenders that Harry had been killed whilst sneaking away from the battle, leaving others to fight and die in his name. Azalea knew that no one in Hogwarts would believe this blatant lie, but one person acted upon it. She saw Neville Longbottom rush forward from the crowd and attempt to kill or stun Voldemort. Neville didn’t stand a chance against Voldemort in a duel and he was easily thrown the floor and disarmed. Voldemort, however, had refrained from killing him wanting to taunt and torture him instead. He invited Neville, as a pureblood, to join the Death Eaters; Neville refused. Voldemort announced “There will be no more sorting at Hogwarts, there will be no more houses, the only colours will be those of Slytherin.” He summoned the sorting hat from the headmaster’s office and pulled it down over Neville’s head. Azalea was watching Voldemort minutely, she wanted no harm to come to Neville. Voldemort aimed his wand at the hat that was jammed on Neville’s head and she saw the colours of a spell to cause objects to combust shoot from Voldemort’s wand. Azalea shot a counterspell at the same time. The sorting hat burst into flames but she had modified the flames and they were only for show, no heat came from the fire and no burning was caused to Neville. 

At the same time as the hat burst into flames a commotion came from the boundaries of the school - a noise that sounded like hundreds of people uttering war cries. Azalea could make out the shapes of figures running towards the building, she heard the sound of bows being released and dozens of arrows landed in the midst of the Death Eaters who scattered to reform elsewhere. The reinforcements for Hogwarts had finally arrived! As they got closer Azalea recognised people from the village of Hogsmeade and the families of the students who had remained at Hogwarts to fight. The two giants which she’d see earlier were now on the rampage but for the moment being held in check by a smaller giant, Hagrid’s half-brother Gawp, and harried by Buckbeak the hippograff and the herd of thestrals.

In spite of the cacophony of sound, Azalea and everyone else within viewing distance of Neville saw him pull the hat from his head, reach into it, pull out a ruby handled sword, which Azalea knew to be the real sword of Gryffindor, and with one fluid moved he sliced off the head of the giant snake Nagini. Voldemort screamed in fury and Azalea instinctively shot a shield charm over Neville to protect him from Voldemort’s revenge. She saw another shield charm erected between Neville and Voldemort. She looked in the direction it had come from and saw the unmistakable sign of the invisibility cloak, hiding Harry from view. He must have put it on when the reinforcements had arrived and distracted attention from his inert body. Suddenly Hagrid’s voice sounded out over the noise “Harry! Where’s Harry?”

Azalea returned her attention to Voldemort, the fury radiating from him was more than just for loss of his familiar, and Azalea realised with a jolt that Nagini had been a horcrux, the final one. Now there was nothing to protect Voldemort except his skill at battling with a wand, which she knew was formidable. She could kill him now and that would be an end to it, but Voldemort was not hers to kill, it had to be done by Harry, to make the prophecy come true. Voldemort believed that the only one who could end his life was Harry. Nevertheless she wanted to speak to him before he died, something which he had denied to her with Severus.

Many of the Death Eaters who had come through the forest with Voldemort had rushed forward to engage with the defenders of Hogwarts and the reinforcements. Voldemort went with them. Azalea flew to intercept him. She landed in front of him and speaking in parseltongue she said, “Grandfather.”

Voldemort lifted his wand with lightning speed to curse her but she’d had the element of surprise and was quicker. She froze him in a body bind and then cast a shield spell around them so they would not be hit by accident, not knowing that Voldemort had issued orders that she was not to be killed until he gave the word. The Death Eaters avoided them.

She pointed her wand at him saying, “I could kill you now, Grandfather. Tell me why I shouldn’t?”

“The prophecy,” he replied.

“Which prophecy would that be?” she asked. “The one told to Dumbledore and overhead by Severus? The prophecy that says, “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.” Or is there another prophecy that I should know about?”

Voldemort had never heard the full prophecy before. “So it is true,” he said. “Only I can kill Potter and only he can kill me.”

“You could interpret it that way, I suppose,” said Azalea casually. 

“So the prophecy is fulfilled for I have killed Potter,” gloated Voldemort.

“You are wrong, grandfather. Harry is not dead, I cheated death and brought him back - he was dead for only seconds.”

“NO!” he shouted but quickly recovered and said smoothly, “It matters not, I will find Potter, kill him again and thus the prophecy is fulfilled.”

“The prophecy works both ways and I will let Harry kill you, not because I believe in prophecies but because it is fitting that he does so. You have caused him grief and ruined his life.” She stared into Voldemort’s red eyes and he saw that her eyes were filling with red sparks as her mood changed into one of anger and hate. “You have also ruined my life. You killed the man I love and you killed him for no reason.”

“I have killed many people,” he responded indifferently but with an element of confidence now he knew she would not kill him immediately. “Who was it?”

“Severus,” she responded. “Severus Snape.”

His red eyes glinted, “I killed him for a reason. I needed to master the Elder Wand!”

“That wand?” she said in quiet fury, pointing to the wand unmoving in his outstretched hand. He had killed Severus for a wand? The wand that had once belonged to Dumbledore’s sister and then to her but never to Severus. What was so special about it? 

“Yes. This wand, the Deathsitck, the Wand of Power.” Voldemort confirmed. Azalea was surprised that her former wand was that powerful, the one she had taken from Dumbledore’s grave was far superior. It had always responded to her will instantly and seemed to be an extended part of her. Since having it she had begun to understand why wizards would sooner be naked than wandless. Voldemort continued to explain, “It belonged to Dumbledore, Severus killed Dumbledore and its allegiance turned to him. I killed Severus and now the wand is mine.”

Azalea noticed that her bodybind on Voldemort was weakening. He thought he was distracting her with his words and whilst doing so he was using his own wandless magic to release himself from her bonds. She could reinforce the spell but prolonging the final outcome would serve no benefit and she could see she was needed in the battle against the giants. She had one more question to ask him. “What is the Slytherin prophecy?”

Voldemort considered not telling her but he had to distract her for a little longer before he was free of her bonds, which were the strongest he had ever seen. He told her the truth. “It is prophesised that one in the line of Slytherin will have the power to cheat death. That prophecy refers to me! I am that one! Once I have killed Potter I shall live for ever.”

“You are welcome to be the beneficiary of that prophecy, Grandfather. I have no desire to live for ever,” Azalea said with her hate for him clear in her voice. “Without the man you stole from me, life has no meaning and no joy.”

“Then you are a fool. Love is for fools. It does not conquer death, as Dumbledore believed.” Voldemort said savagely. “Only life conquers death.” 

“What use is life if it is without love?” Azalea asked. She could see that Voldemort had almost broken through his bonds, she prepared to defend herself, even if it meant killing him in self-defence.

Voldemort burst out of his bindings and flew up into the air, hissing back at Azalea. “Once I have finished off Potter, I will come after you. Granddaughter” and he spat out the word like a curse. “Believe me you will beg for death before I am done and you will tell me what I need to know. Love will not save you, nothing can save you.”

Azalea let him go, trusting that she had done the right thing in leaving him for Harry to deal with, and after all she was always on the winning side. His parting words chilled her soul and she feared for Luke. The quiet fury she had felt earlier deepened in its intensity at the implied threat to her son and was replaced by an ice cold anger. Her grief for Severus rose up inside again and her hatred for Voldemort threatened to overwhelm her. A feeling of controlled calm overtook her and she felt a need for revenge. She would start with the giants that were striding towards Hogwarts. She pushed all thoughts of right and wrong from her and buried them deep inside. 

Whilst she had been talking to Voldemort the two giants had moved towards Hogwarts and their approach forced the defenders and the Death Eaters inside the castle. Azalea turned her attention to the giants. If they reached the castle they would soon turn it rubble with their massive strength, they could kick and pound it to ruins and all the wizards inside would be buried alive. The giants had been slowed down in their approach as the thestrals buzzed around their heads like mosquitoes. The giants swatted at them and Azalea saw a thestral hit by an enormous fist and flung to the floor where it lay unmoving; she hoped it was stunned and not dead. She wondered if it was the same thestral that she and Severus had once watched feeding its foal, even it wasn’t, the animal still deserved avengement. Gawp was pummelling at the other giant, dodging the heavy but unskilled punches thrown back him. The giants clearly fought with strength but not finesse or tactics. By the standards of giants, Gawp was a small specimen but agile in comparison to the others and he had so far successfully managed to dodge the fists but his luck couldn’t last for ever. Azalea took aim with her wand and hit the giant currently battling Gawp straight between the eyes. The giant stiffened with a look of surprise in his small eyes and toppled backwards like a tree felled. 

The other giant was surrounded by some of the wizards who had arrived with the reinforcements, they were shooting spells and jinxes at him but they were having as much effect as bee stings would, eventually the weight of numbers would bring him down but for now all it was doing was enraging him. Upon hearing the sound of body of the giant Azalea had just slain crash to the ground the other giant looked across and saw the fate of his companion. He raced towards Hogwarts, each step being equivalent to twenty strides of a human, the wizards who had been shooting at him raced behind him still firing curses. The giant reached Hogwarts just as the spells finally wore him down and he stumbled and fell unconscious onto the building. The building shook with the impact and the stones began to give way, crumbling from the roof, its weight on the masonry below forcing it to collapse inwards. Azalea saw the danger immediately and with her swift reactions she caught the giant with a spell, lifted him away from the building and dropped him onto the grounds in one fluid movement. The people outside the building screamed for those inside to leave and some rushed forwards to enter the building. Azalea knew there would be no time for an evacuation before the roof and the wall fell on top of those inside and outside. She focussed all the power she could muster from within herself, fed it through her wand and shot spell after spell at the wall. The bricks and stones stopped moving and for an instant everything was halted. Then slowly the wall and roof began to straighten up, as if she were reversing the damage. The wizards watched in amazement as she single-handedly repaired the building and saved the lives of dozens of people inside.

The unconscious giant slowly regained his senses and began to stir. The giants had been promised more land and food by Voldemort, not death. The giant had loyalty to no one but himself and he did not wish to remain and die, any extra land would be useless to him if he were dead. He rose unsteadily to his feet, turned his back on the wizards who had been attacking him and were now eying him warily, and he retreated to the forest. The wizards who had been fighting with him put up their wands and let him flee, there was no honour in killing one who no longer wished to fight. Azalea had no such compunction, she shot him in the back and he fell forwards stone dead. Her eyes were now constantly flashing red and she looked around for more enemies to kill in order to save the people at Hogwarts, to seek justice for her husband and protect her son.

She saw the centaurs shooting arrows into the forest where the werewolves had grouped. It was not a full moon and the werewolves were in their human shape but they were the type of people who had eschewed their humanity and embraced the wolf. They were longhaired and the males had shaggy beards, all were coarsely dressed. Unlike Remus, they had not all been wizards when they were turned and they did not have the skills to defend against arrows using magic. The few who did have magic had erected a shield above the group to protect them from the falling arrows. Every so often a werewolf would race out of the shelter towards the centaurs, weaving and dodging to confuse the archers. Some managed to make it to where the centaurs were standing. Azalea saw one of them leap at a centaur and try to stab at him with a lethal knife he was carrying. With ice cold precision and deadly accuracy Azalea shot at the werewolf slicing off the arm that wielded the knife before mechanically piercing a hole through its head. The werewolf fell away and the centaur retreated. 

Azalea turned her attention to the remainder of the pack. She flew into the air and concealed herself with a disillusionment charm, she took aim and casually shot into the pack. Her first spell destroyed the protective shield as if it were made of paper. She picked out the wand-wielding werewolves and dispassionately killed them one by one. The remainder of the pack panicked and began to scatter once they realised their protection was gone. Azalea cast a containment spell using wandless magic and corralled them against a hedge of thick brambles. The werewolves were terrified, they couldn’t see where the enemy was, just an occasional flash from above them before one of their number fell dead. They tried to run forwards away from the hedge but an invisible barrier trapped them. Some of them tried to scramble through the thick thorny hedge oblivious to the rips and tears of their skin. The hedge burst into flames and the werewolves howled in terror and pain as the heat overwhelmed them. Azalea hovered above them and silenced the pack with a single unforgivable curse that flashed green from her wand and killed them all at the same time. 

She flew back towards the castle picking off any Death Eaters that she saw trying to escape as she went. She aimed to kill. She arrived at the entrance to the school, the large oak door had been destroyed in the battle and the space where it had been gaped like a missing tooth. Inside was pandemonium, the Death Eaters, who had fled inside when the giants had headed towards the building, were being attacked by the house elves, who struck at them using meat knives and cleavers. The house elves had joined the fight, just as Winky had said they would. At the head of the house elf defenders was Kreacher shouting encouragement with every blow he struck. He saw Azalea and yelled out, “My lady, we defends our masters! We fights for Hogwarts! My lady you must help Harry Potter!”

Azalea heard his words, at the sound of a familiar voice and her cousin’s name she snapped out of the killing rage she had been in and took stock of her surroundings. She followed the sound of more fighting to the Great Hall. Voldemort was at the centre of the battle hitting anyone who came within range. Azalea saw Filius duelling a Death Eater and easily defeat him, Filius had not lost any of his expertise and experience in duelling. He rushed away to engage another Death Eater. Hagrid was not duelling but using his bulk and strength to physically fight the Death Eaters, if they could not use magic to fight him they were defenceless against him and she saw him throw an opponent against the wall and watched him slide down unconscious. Voldemort was now fighting Minerva, Horace and Kingsley all at the same time. She was pleased to note that Horace had stayed to fight. She could see only hatred on her grandfather’s face as he shot spell after spell at his three attackers. Azalea shot a shield spell between them from where she stood. 

She looked around and saw Bellatrix easily holding her own against Luna, Hermione and Ginny. She heard a woman’s voice bellow, “Not my daughter, you bitch!” She looked towards the origin of the shout and saw Molly rush to engage Bellatrix, who had just fired a killing curse that had narrowly missed Ginny and their defeat at Bellatrix’s hands would have been inevitable had not Molly intervened.

The defenders of Hogwarts in the hall now outnumbered the Death Eaters and the remaining combatants stopped their own fights and moved towards the walls watching Molly battle Bellatrix and Voldemort battle his three opponents. Azalea saw the flicker of Harry’s invisibility cloak close to where Ginny was standing and she could sense that the end was drawing near. 

Bellatrix had underestimated how well Molly could fight and how far a mother would go to protect her children. She tried to taunt Molly into making a mistake but her tactic backfired and served only to strengthen Molly’s resolve; but it was Bellatrix who made the mistake and left herself exposed for the fraction of a second that was enough for Molly to shoot the killing curse directly over her heart, in the same way that Bellatrix had killed Sirius two years’ ago. Azalea considered that justice for Sirius had been served. Now she required justice for Severus.

As Bellatrix died, the watching crowd roared but Voldemort became enraged by the end of his most loyal servant. Energised by fury, and possibly grief, at the loss of Bellatrix, he used his full force to blast back his attackers, breaking through Azalea’s shield spell and the three wizards he was fighting fell backwards as if a grenade has exploded near them. Voldemort pointed his wand at Molly to avenge Bellatrix’s death. Without warning a shout of “Protego!” came as if from the air, Azalea saw a strong shield charm appear around Voldemort at the same time as Harry threw off his invisibility cloak and the pair of them stood face to face for the final reckoning. The crowd who had been watching Molly’s and Voldemort’s fights began to shout and cheer, “Harry! He’s alive!” But the cries were stifled at once when they saw the look on Voldemort’s face as he saw Harry appear and now faced his enemy for the final, decisive time.

Like fighters within the ring of the protection shield, Voldemort and Harry began to circle one another speaking as they did so. Voldemort’s madness and obsession overtaking his reason as he taunted Harry for hiding behind greater men and woman, letting them die for him and how it was just a series of accidents that had allowed Harry had get to this point. An accident that Lily had died to save her son and given him the protection of old magic to keep him from harm. Voldemort claimed he now had possession of the Elder Wand and that made him all powerful. He had killed the man who had killed Dumbledore and now the wand was truly his.

Azalea listened closely to this part of the exchange, because they were talking about Severus. Harry told Voldemort how Severus had been Dumbledore’s man ever since Voldemort had killed Lily, because he had loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. 

“You should have realised,” Harry said as he saw Voldemort’s nostrils flare, “he asked you to spare her life, didn’t he?”

“He desired her, that was all,” sneered Voldemort, “but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him —“ As he spoke Voldemort glanced over towards Azalea who was now standing behind Harry and he heard the irony of his own words.

Azalea listened as Harry told Voldemort how Severus had spied for Dumbledore and that the two of them had arranged for Severus to kill Dumbledore, who was already dying. Severus had never defeated Dumbledore so the wand’s allegiance was never his. Azalea was swept with a wave of gratitude to Harry for telling the truth about Severus in front of all these witnesses. Now her husband’s name would no longer be associated with betrayal and murder but with bravery and loyalty even to the minute he died. 

Harry told Voldemort that before Severus had killed Dumbledore, the headmaster had been disarmed by Draco Malfoy, making Malfoy the master of the elder wand. Later, when Harry had been captured by the Death Eaters and taken to Malfoy Manor, Harry had disarmed Draco making Harry the true master of the wand. Even as Harry was telling this to Voldemort, Azalea was remembering the day Dumbledore had died, how she had chased after Severus and had disarmed Draco Malfoy to prevent him from shooting Harry, just before she had intervened to stop Severus from losing control of himself. It was a few days later when she had swapped her wand with the one that had gone to the grave with Dumbledore and long before Harry had disarmed Draco. She stared at the wand in her hand, she was the owner of the wand that Voldemort had coveted and killed for. 

The dawn sun suddenly erupted into the sky and its orange light shone through one of the broken windows in the hall. The time for talking was past and the two combatants were galvanised into action, simultaneously shouting;

“Avada Kedavra!”

“Expelliarmus!”

Whether it was the wand seeking its true master, as Harry believed, or the strength of the old magic now protecting Harry because he had given up his life to protect others, Harry’s expelliarmus spell collided with Voldemort’s killing curse and once more Voldemort’s curse rebounded on himself but this time with fatal results. Voldemort’s wand had shot out of his hand as the spells collided and Harry caught it just as Voldemort fell to the ground, dead at last. 

A stunned silence encased the room for a second before it was broken by cheers of jubilation from the people in the room and Harry was engulfed by those he cared about – Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Hagrid and the Weasleys. They were quickly followed by the teachers – Minerva, Filius, Poppy and then everyone surrounded him – all wanting a piece of him to touch, to congratulate, to say that they were there on the historic day when the wizard world was saved by the Boy Who Lived. Azalea did not try to join them, she would offer her congratulations to Harry at another time when she could speak to him alone and not be drowned out by the crowd. 

She walked away and felt ashamed of her actions during the battle, the people she had killed. To be sure Harry had been instrumental in Voldemort’s death but it was Voldemort’s own curse that had killed him, not Harry’s. As far as Azalea was aware Harry had killed no one. But she had killed dozens, in cold blood and without mercy – the two giants, all the werewolves which had been outside, Death Eaters running away or running towards the battle, none had been spared her vengeance, she hadn’t distinguished between the bad and those who could have been saved. She had acted as if her soul was frozen, at heart she was no better than her grandfather had been. 

She saw some stretcher bearers taking Voldemort’s body away and lay it in a chamber off the Hall. She followed them and when they had gone she stood and stared at her grandfather’s body, searching his empty face for some family resemblance to her, some indication of evil that they both shared. But it wasn’t reflected in his face – he had been one of the most handsome men alive before he went on his warped quest for immortality. Azalea knew that the evil would be deep inside where no one could see it. She left his body and went into the Great Hall and saw the bodies of the defenders who had given their lives to save the wizard world from Voldemort’s vision of evil. Over fifty people lay there and she tried to convince herself that they were her justification for killing again and again. She walked slowly along the row of bodies silently paying her respects for their sacrifice. Some she recognised and some she didn’t. When she got the end it struck her forcibly that one hero of the battle was not here, to be honoured with the rest, someone who Harry had exonerated whilst talking to Voldemort. He was lying alone in a dirty shack, no one to praise him posthumously for his work, no one to pay their respects to him. She would go and get him and lay him with the others.

As she turned away from the row of the fallen, a man dressed in healer’s robes approached her and she recognised him as Julian. His robes were spattered with blood and grime and his face was drawn with fatigue and over work. “Leah!” he explained in relief. “Where have you been? No one’s seen you for hours.”

Azalea replied, “I’ve been in the field, looking out for Harry. I joined in the fighting.”

“You’re covered in blood? Are you hurt?”

Azalea looked down at her robes, like Julian’s they were red with blood, most of it Severus’ and grey with dust. “No,” she said quietly “It’s not mine. What about you?” she asked pointing to his robes.

He smiled faintly, “It’s not mine either. Leah, you look exhausted. More healers have arrived. Those of us who have been here all night are going off duty. That includes you,” he added firmly.

“Yes, I need to rest. I have one more thing to do then I shall go home and sleep,” she told him. 

“Make sure you do,” he instructed her before going to find other healers who had been there all night and telling them that their shift had ended.

Azalea walked from the building. No one noticed, no one spoke to her or called her name, they were rejoicing that they had survived, grieving for the dead and injured, finding comfort where they could and no one needed her. Once outside Azalea rose into the air and flew in the direction of the Shrieking Shack, she wanted the feel of the air rushing through her hair and the light of the morning sun on her skin to refresh her and give her the strength of will to see Severus one more time and take his body back to join the others. As she drew nearer to the Shrieking Shack, she could see only smoke. She rushed to the end of her journey. The shack was no longer there, a pile of smouldering ashes lay where it used to be. The sharp acrid smell of burnt timber hung on the breeze, the ashes clung to her hair and the smoke stung her eyes. Severus was gone. There was no body for her to take back for a hero’s burial, no body for people to honour and apologise to for misunderstanding him. There had been no opportunity to speak for his death and his life. It was as if he had not existed and real tears joined the smoke induced water coming from her eyes. 

She would not forget him and she would mark this place for posterity as the location of his body, now cremated with the building he had died in, as one with the earth. She found a large flat rock and with ease she manoeuvred it into place like a headstone. On it she etched some words as she had seen Harry had done in the place where Dobby now lay. When she had finished, she fired a volley of rainbow coloured sparks from her wand. Alone she watched them fall to earth, alone she offered thanks for his life, alone she cried for the man she had loved and alone she disapparated back to her house.


	86. Reunion

Severus felt as if he were dreaming. The green eyes he was focussing on blurred and he breathed out the name of the woman he loved above all others. He had a sensation of falling, slowly and in control, as if he were falling down a vertical chute but in slow motion. His feet touched the ground and he stood up looking around him and his world had turned white. He could feel the ground beneath his feet and when he looked forward he couldn’t see where the ground ended and the sky began, everything was bright white. He glanced down at his feet and the clothes he was wearing were in stark contrast to his surroundings. His black robes edged with Slytherin green were clean and as new looking as the day he had bought them, gone were the blood stains and the dirt and dust from the Shrieking Shack. He remembered the snake striking him and the venom racing through his blood stream even as the blood leaked from the puncture wounds in his neck. He put his hand to his neck, he could feel only his uninjured skin. He felt strangely calm and almost at peace as if his cares were now over.

He squinted against the glare of the spotless scenery and in the distance he could make out something glittering and reflecting the light and with no idea as to what he should do he headed towards it. As he drew closer he could make out a golden door, like the oak door at the entrance of Hogwarts, but far more ornate and delicately constructed. As he approached, the door swung open in a smooth action to reveal an old wizard, with a long flowing white beard and dressed in robes of sky blue and yellow which stood out like a summer’s day against the dazzling white he had just walked though. The wizard had a scroll in one hand and his wand in the other. He spoke in an authoritative way, “I am Lapis, Guardian of the Gate.”

“The gate to where?” asked Severus.

“The gate to the afterlife.” Lapis stated and consulted his scroll, “What is your name?”

“I am called Severus,” he replied, and as he spoke he felt a charge like electricity shoot through his heart and the peaceful feeling he had just experienced faded.

“You are on the list,” said Lapis. “You may enter.”

Severus took a step towards the gate and suddenly stopped. He had a sensation of a hand over his heart and a warm feeling flooded through him reminding him of someone who had a hold of his heart. “Is Azalea on the list?” he asked.

Lapis glanced over the next few entries. “Not today,” he said.

“When will she come?” Severus asked.

Lapis was often asked this question. Time in the afterlife didn’t operate in the same way as the living were used to but he had learned it was easier to respond in a manner that the recently deceased could relate to. He looked further down the list and opened the scroll a little more, then a lot more and he continued to open it, he began to unroll it furiously, his eyes opening in surprise and he finally found her name. “Not for a long time,” he told Severus, “a very long time.”

Severus stopped at the gate and considered the reply. Azalea was going to have a long life and he wouldn’t be part of it. His memories of her rushed back, of their time together and of Luke. He thought he could feel the pressure of her lips on his. He had almost forgotten, his peace was now shattered and he couldn’t take another step forward. Lapis was used to people hesitating before they entered, sometimes they needed help to cross over. He motioned with his wand and summoned assistance. Someone was walking towards them through the whiteness that was behind the gate. Severus watched the person come closer. She finally came into focus, a pair of green eyes met his and he saw a head of auburn hair, it was Lily. She was without doubt a beautiful woman but her beauty no longer touched him the way it once had. He compared her to Azalea and found her lacking. Nevertheless he was pleased to see her. 

“Sev,” she greeted him. “My oldest and dearest friend, you are here.”

As she spoke three other people had come into view and he recognised James, Sirius and, to his surprise, Remus. Surely Remus hadn’t perished already? Severus searched his emotions for his love of Lily and his dislike of the three men accompanying her but he could find none of it. It mattered not, in this strange place.

Lily continued to speak, “Sev, thank you for protecting my son. Without you he could never had made this far. The battle is almost done you can come in and rest now. You task is over. We will take over and accompany him as he faces his last challenge.”

Severus listened to her words, his love for his own son had not faded with his entry to this place. “I have protected your son Lily and I have paid my debt. But who will protect my son if I cross over?”

Sirius stepped forwards, “You have a son?”

Severus looked over at him, his resentment and dislike of the man had gone and he replied civilly, it seemed the right thing to do. “Yes,” he answered, “His name is Luke.”

Remus’s joined in the conversation. “Luke?” he said in surprise, “Azalea’s Luke?”

“Yes,” replied Severus simply.

“You are her prince!” exclaimed Sirius and turning towards the others he said, “Albus never mentioned this!”

“Albus is here?” asked Severus and moved closer to the gate. Why had he not come to meet him? Why send James and Sirius with Lily?

“He would have come to greet you but he has another appointment, with Harry, and he needs to prepare,” said Lily answering his unasked question.

Sirius stood in the gateway preventing Severus from trying to enter. Severus stared at the dark haired, handsome man who had been his tormentor for so many years and heard him say, “I’m sorry for the persecution I put you through when I was alive, such things do not happen in the afterlife, all sins are forgiven and forgotten. Those who cannot forgive are not permitted to cross.”

James came up behind Sirius and added his voice to his words, “I too apologise for bullying you as a child; you have repaid us in a way that we did not earn.”

Severus heard only sincerity in their words and he knew he would be prepared to forgive and forget, just as Azalea had always encouraged him to do. A great weight lifted from his mind as he acknowledged this to himself and he nodded to Sirius and James saying, “I am not innocent of tormenting and goading you. We are all guilty of misjudgement.” He looked at James, probably the first time he had ever looked into his face without hating what he saw. “You gave your life to protect your son, James. What greater sacrifice could there be? All I have done is tried to keep him from harm. Although,” he added with a smile and a short laugh, “he does seem to court trouble and harm finds him easily enough.” James returned his smile as one father to another.

Severus put his hand to his chest as another jolt of electricity cut through his heart and he staggered forward almost crossing the line. He heard Sirius shout “No! Severus don’t cross over!” Severus stepped back Sirius hastened to explain. “Once you enter the gate, you cannot go back. If you are not quite dead in the land of the living then you will be once you cross and you can never return except as a ghost. Severus, I can see a thread of life still linking you to the living world. It is getting stronger now, someone doesn’t want you to die and you don’t want to leave her.”

“Leah,” whispered Severus. He put his hand to his neck as a burning sensation touched the spot where Nagini had bitten him and he could feel a warmth spreading through body following the lines of his veins and arteries. A sharp stabbing pain pierced his arm and he bent it upwards to relieve the stinging he felt in his arm.

“Severus, you must go back to Azalea,” said Sirius earnestly. “When I was alive, I wanted her to love me, but her heart was already taken - by you - her prince among men. She loves you in the way that she couldn’t quite love me. I know that now and I care for her enough to wish her happiness, and she will find that with you. It is not too late for you to go back. You need only pay the price.”

“What price is that?” he asked.

Lapis answered, “The price is different for each person. You were dead when you arrived here. Someone is trying to revive you. It is up to you to decide if you stay or go. If you decide to return I cannot guarantee that your body will be as you left it.”

“But I will see Azalea and Luke again,” said Severus longingly. “What is your price?”

“You must give me your voice,” demanded Lapis.

“I will never speak again?” he asked, “Never say to Leah that I love her?”

“It is not your speaking voice I require, it is your ability to sing.”

Severus mentally weighed up his options, he loved to sing, especially to Luke and to see the look on Azalea’s face at his perfect voice. He could remain here, in the afterlife and have a voice or he could lose it and be like most people in the world who couldn’t sing well. Compared to his love for Azalea and Luke, his love of singing came well down the list. His choice was no choice at all, of course he would pay the price, take the risk of returning to a damaged body and even if he saw Azalea and Luke for only one more minute he would still do it. “I agree to the price,” he told Lapis and stood away from the gate.

Lily, James, Sirius and Remus stayed on the other side of the gate. “We will be here waiting for you when you return,” said Lily. “Protect your son, as you protected mine.”

“Love Azalea as she deserves to be loved, never give her cause to doubt you or to hurt her,” said Sirius.

“I won’t, she is a part of me, the best part. My soulmate.” Severus said before turning to Lapis. “I am ready to pay the price.”

Lapis pointed his wand at Severus’ throat, he felt a sharp stinging sensation and he thought he saw a faint shimmer of light leaving his mouth and make its way towards Lapis’ wand. “Now you must walk through that arch over there and it will return you to your body.”

Severus walked to arch and as he went through it, the others watching saw him surrounded by stars as if he were an angel in heaven.

Lapis sighed, it was rare for someone to arrive here and then return to life, out of curiosity he looked at the scroll to see when he would next meet Severus again, it pleased him to see that Severus’ name had now joined Azalea’s on the list. He would not be seeing him again for a very long time.

\--oOo—

Just at the instant that Azalea had disapparated from the Shrieking Shack, Severus took a huge breath and sat up whilst the last stars she had shot from her wand landed on him. He could feel his heart racing and pounding within his chest and he had a raging thirst. He looked around for something to drink and didn’t think it strange that there was bottle of water lying on the floor beside him. He unscrewed the top and drained the contents. It took the edge off his thirst but he needed more. He slowly got to his feet, he ached all over, he was burning hot as if he had a fever and he felt drained, weak and exhausted. Slowly he began to remember; Nagini had attacked him on Voldemort’s orders because the Dark Lord thought that he was the master of the Elder wand. Then Harry had appeared and Severus had given him some memories to let him know what he must do. Severus couldn’t remember what those memories were, they had gone from him now. Then his world had gone white, he could recall seeing Lily and Sirius but the more he tried to think of what had happened the faster it slipped away from him, as if he were trying to hold mist in his hands.

He considered what he should do next. He was finally free of Voldemort who believed him dead. Severus knew he could not let Voldemort know that he had survived Nagini’s attack. How he had lived Severus did not know, the snake’s bite was usually fatal and once dead the victim became the snake’s next meal. He was lucky he had not ended up that way. 

Severus wondered if Harry had yet seen his memories and understood what he had tried to tell him? Azalea, where was she now? What was she doing? He considered speaking to her telepathically but he didn’t want to distract her if she was fighting for her life. He had a feeling; a conviction; a premonition, that she would survive this day and live for many years. He instinctively knew it would be safe to wait until he saw her in person or if she contacted him first. 

He couldn’t go and join in the battle on either side. If he went to the defenders they would attack him before he had a chance to explain. He had no desire to fight for the Death Eaters and it would be suicide to go back to the Dark Lord for Voldemort would certainly kill him the instant he saw him. All he could do was keep away. He felt so weak he doubted whether he would be of use on any side. Severus readied himself to disapparate from the shack when it occurred to him that if Voldemort had cause to return to the Shrieking Shack and didn’t see Severus’ body, he would seek him out. He could not take that chance. The Shrieking Shack had been boarded up for many years but from the inside it was easy to see where the doors had once been. Severus blasted away the shuttering from the door and went outside. He walked a little distance from the building, he pointed his wand towards the timber structure saying “Incendio” and a blast of fire shot out from his wand and hit the old wooden building which burst into flames. The fire raced over the building and within minutes it was well aflame, silhouetting his figure in its light. He turned and walked away from the intense heat that was coming from the burning building and he disapparated.

He appeared outside a small terraced house in an ordinary street which could be in any muggle town. It was very early in the morning, just before dawn and there was insufficient light to make out the colour of the front door which he knew to be red. He cast the spell to unlock the door and cancel the wards that protected the house from unwanted visitors. Once inside he went into the small kitchen at the end of the corridor and filled a glass with water from the tap and drank until he could drink no more. He rinsed out the glass and left it on the drainer. He opened the refrigerator and looked at the food inside but he wasn’t really hungry, it was just a habit he had every time he came to Azalea’s house. He shut it again and was overcome with fatigue. He needed sleep but first he would take a shower, he didn’t want to make the bedsheets dirty and he wanted to be clean of the dust and dirt from the floor of the shack. 

He went upstairs and opened the door to Luke’s bedroom. It was far too early in the morning for him to telephone Lucy and make sure that Luke was all right, a call at this time would worry her and he couldn’t reassure her that Azalea was safe. Luke’s cot was on one side of the room against a wall painted yellow and there was a brightly coloured blanket crumpled up at the end of the cot. Severus picked up the blanket, held it to him, imagining it was Luke and folded it neatly before returning it to the end of the cot. That was better, it would be tidy for when Luke came home. He crossed the landing and entered the bedroom where he had spent so many nights with Azalea. He stripped off his clothes and put them in neat pile on the floor, he walked out of the room to the bathroom where he ran the shower and stood under it allowing the warm water to wash away the blood, the dirt and the dust. He washed his hair and held his face into the water taking small mouthfuls of the hot water that came from the shower head, he wondered if he would ever stop feeling parched and thirsty. The warm shower made him more soporific than before he had started it. He turned off the shower, got out and dried himself with a towel. He wrapped the towel around his waist and headed back for the bedroom. Azalea liked the bathroom to be kept clean so he waved his hands to cast a tidying up spell before he left the room and the shower was instantly clean again.

He climbed into bed and lay on the side Azalea usually slept so that he could smell her scent and it eased him into a deep and dreamless sleep.

\--oOo—

Azalea apparated directly into the hallway of her house. It was seven o’clock in the morning and she’d been awake for 24 hours. In that time she’d held up the atrium roof at Gringotts, she’d healed many people, she’d been unable to save her husband and his body had been burned with no time to say goodbye, and she had helped in defeating Voldemort’s army. She was exhausted both physically and emotionally, all she wanted to do was sleep and forget for a few hours. First she had to reassure Lucy; despite the early hour she rang her. Lucy answered quickly and Azalea explained she had been awake all night; could Lucy keep Luke for a little longer and Azalea would collect him the next day? Lucy was happy to do so and relieved to hear from Azalea. Luckily she didn’t ask about Severus. Azalea would have that conversation with her the next day and let Luke think he had a father for one more day.

Azalea went into the kitchen, she was too tired to eat or make a drink. There was a glass already on the draining board and she filled that from the tap and drank from it. Next she went to bathroom, she needed a shower to wash the blood, the dirt and the dust that covered her body. She threw her dirty clothes on the floor of the bathroom and got into the shower. As the warm water rushed over her, she became less tense and her grief at the loss of her husband hit her afresh. She leaned against the side of the shower cubicle, her body wracked with sobs and tears poured down her face again, mingling with the water from the shower. The water would never wash away her sorrow and after several minutes she had cried herself out and wanted only to sleep. She got out of the shower and dried herself on a towel. Leaving the bathroom in a mess she crossed the landing to her bedroom.

She opened the door, the first thing she noticed was that the curtains were shut; the second thing she saw was someone asleep in her bed. The curtains did not block out the morning sun and in the reduced light she stared at the figure. Straight black hair spread out over the white pillow, a face in profile with a prominent Roman nose, long eyelashes and a strong mouth, all relaxed in sleep. It looked like Severus, but how could it be? She had seen his dead body, she had closed his eyes before she left him behind. When she had returned to the place of his death it had become his funeral pyre. Was someone playing a wicked joke her? She stepped softly towards the bed and tentatively reached out to touch his hair. It felt soft and smooth in her hand, she stroked his face, it felt solid and real, this was no ghost in her bed. 

Although he had been sleeping soundly, the gentle of touch of her hand caused Severus to wake up. His eyes opened and Azalea looked straight into them, dark and beautiful. “Leah,” he said quietly and sat up on the bed. The cover fell to his waist with his movement and Azalea saw on his chest the scar over his heart and small burn marks where she had tried a defibrillation spell. 

She stepped back in shock covering her mouth with her hand “Severus!” she choked out and once again huge sobs shook her body. “How can it be you? I saw you dead. I couldn’t save you. How are you here? Who sent you back to me? Severus!”

He got out of the bed and stood in front of her and gathered her into his arms. “It is me Leah, you can feel me can’t you?” She laid her head against his chest and cried once more, clinging desperately to him, her small frame shaking as if it would break. He held whilst she cried until she had no tears left. “Leah,” he murmured all the while. Finally she stopped and rubbed her face on the towel she still had wrapped around her, which then fell to the floor. 

Her face, red and blotchy, searched his and she could see his eyes were bright with concern and love, she could feel his heart beating against her own body. “You are alive. You’re not dead. Oh Severus!”

He pulled her onto the bed and lay down with her pulling the bedclothes over them. “No my love, I’m not dead.”

“What happened?” she asked moving closer to him touching as much of his body with hers as she could.

He didn’t immediately answer her question but asked his own. “Is Luke safe? Is Voldemort defeated? What happened at Hogwarts?”

“Luke is safe at Lucy’s, I’m collecting him tomorrow. Voldemort is dead, Harry defeated him. Hogwarts won the battle, but at such cost, Severus. We have lost some good people, over fifty all together including Remus and Tonks, Fred Weasley and little Colin Creevey. He shouldn’t even have been there. Scores of people are injured. So many dead on the other side – two giants and all the werewolves. I killed them all, Severus. I was distraught and was out of control. Dozens of Death Eaters, wizards and squibs alike – all dead. All dead,” she said sadly. She put her hand against his heart and felt its strong regular beat. “I thought you dead too and when I returned to bring your body to join the fallen, the shack had burned to the ground. I wrote a memorial for you on a plaque – it said, “Severus Snape, unsung hero. Never forgotten.” What happened?” she repeated.

“I remember, the snake biting me, and Harry was there, I gave him something. All I remember is everything went white until I woke up in the Shrieking Shack. I burned it down, Leah. I didn’t want Voldemort to discover my body was gone.” He lifted Azalea’s face and gazed into her green eyes. “He is dead now and finally we are safe. Our life begins today.”

“Yes, today,” she echoed. “Severus Snape, I love you.”

Severus looked into her green eyes and announced “Severus Snape is no more, he died when he was bitten by a snake and his body is burned in the Shrieking Shack, there is even a plaque to commemorate his life and death. His duty is done, his obligations to the dead fulfilled. I am Severus Bennett-Prince, I will follow my own path and make the choices I wish to make. I will change career and devote my life to my family. My life is now dedicated to my family they will want for nothing.”

Azalea smiled at him saying, “Severus Bennett-Prince I love you. But I’m so tired, let me sleep and we can begin our life later on today.”

“I will sleep with you, it was a long night for both of us and when we awake the world will be a different place,” he murmured holding her securely in his arms, grateful to whatever power it was that had seen them both still alive this day. 

They slept in one another’s arms for hours and later that day another life began – the life of Luke Bennett-Prince’s younger sister.


	87. Epilogue – Nineteen Years Later

It was the beginning of another semester at Hawkshill High Boarding School for Wizards and Witches, located in California. The principal stood in his office watching this year’s intake arrive. Most of the students and their families arrived by way of apparation but a few had more flamboyant ways of arriving – winged horses, flying cars or motorcycles, magic carpets. The front yard of the school was quickly filling up. He looked at the students greeting each other enthusiastically, there were new faces looking slightly anxious and unsure, the absence of old faces no longer here – some he would miss, some he was glad to see gone but he wished them all well in their future lives.

One family, in particular caught his attention - the Bennett-Princes, walking with the easy grace of people who know their worth. The family had arrived in California almost two decades ago, when their oldest child was just a baby, shortly after the second Voldemort war in the UK. Rumour had it that the couple had played a significant role in that war but like many battle veterans they never spoke of it and rumour was all it remained. The Principal knew they were related to the famous Harry Potter so there may be some truth to the stories.

Severus Bennett-Prince was a slim man with short black hair and a neatly trimmed beard, he had healthy tanned skin as if he disliked hiding in the dark, and a ready smile. He was accompanied by his wife, Azalea Bennett-Prince, and their four children. The adults were talking to other parents and preparing to say goodbye to their two youngest children, twins Ruth and Geryon, who were about to start their sophomore year. Ruth was a quiet and likeable person with a good disposition; Geryon was the image of his father, black hair and dark brown eyes, and had a quick wit and intelligence which he used to amuse people not to put them down. The teachers had often said if he applied his intellect more to his work than his humour, his grades would be a lot higher than they were. The older two Bennett-Prince children had already graduated: - Luke, a hard working young man was currently studying at medical college. His sister, Helen, had left Hawkshill last semester and was about to start university. She was strikingly beautiful with her long raven hair and bright green eyes, but never vain or dismissive of those less attractive, if any face could have launched a thousand ships it would have been hers. 

The Principal saw Severus and Azalea laugh as one although they were standing well out of earshot of one another but he couldn’t see what the joke was, sometimes they seemed to be able to communicate without words. Azalea and Severus walked towards each other and when they met up they held hands just as newlyweds would. The way they looked at one another spoke of a deep and lasting love. The Principal had been married a long time and he loved his wife, but the days of public displays of affection were long gone. Now he thought about it, Azalea and Severus still looked like newlyweds. It was hard to believe that they had a 20 year old son, they simply did not look old enough, yet he knew them both to be in their fifties. Azalea was a healer, and a well-regarded one, Severus was a partner in the multi-national potions supplier, Scrips and Co. The company had gone from strength to strength in the past decade or so, but its best-selling item wasn’t a potion at all, it was shampoo. 

There was a knock on his door and the Principal left his contemplation of the students and their families and returned to the business of the day.

Unaware of the Principal’s musings about them, Azalea and Severus said goodbye to their twins, and saw them go safely and happily into the school, chatting with their friends and sparing only a casual wave to their parents. As usual Azalea shed a few tears as she waved to the children and as usual Severus told her that they would be fine. 

Luke and Helen weren’t forced to come to see their siblings off, but they had left the school recently enough to still have some connection with the place. Once their curiosity about any changes was satisfied they disapparated away. 

“Sev, do you ever miss teaching?” Azalea asked as they prepared to leave. 

“No. I’m happy to be on this side of the school,” he replied. “And my occlumency and legilimens skills serve me far better negotiating business deals than they ever did to ascertain what misdemeanours my students were guilty of.”

Azalea and Severus apparated to a large white house, set in vast grounds. Since leaving the UK to make their home elsewhere, Azalea and Severus had done extremely well for themselves. The money Azalea had inherited from Sirius ensured they had a good lifestyle from the outset. She had finished her training as a healer. She had discovered that the stone she picked up on the day of the Battle of Hogwarts was a resurrection stone, which had tremendous healing and life extending properties. Ironically, it would have healed Dumbledore’s cursed arm if they had only known what it was and how to use it. Her natural talent at healing, coupled with her use of the Elder wand of power and the resurrection stone, soon cemented her reputation as an eminent healer of quite extraordinary ability. One of the achievements that had given Azalea a profound sense of satisfaction was when she had healed Frank and Alice Longbottom of the worst effects of the torture that Bellatrix had subjected them to during the first wizard war.

Severus had fulfilled his delayed promise to Cato Scrips to join him as a business partner and grow the business abroad, which Severus had done very successfully. Cato was one of the few in the wizard community who knew that Severus had not died during the final battle at Hogwarts School and he would take the secret to his grave. Another person was Harry.

Harry had known that Azalea had survived the battle of Hogwarts, that she had emigrated to the USA and was married. It was only when he and Ginny came to visit Azalea as part of their honeymoon that he had discovered the true identity of her husband. He recalled that several years’ ago, when Azalea had fallen from the balcony, Hermione had declared that Snape was in love with Azalea and neither he nor Ron had believed her. Harry discovered how much owed to Azalea and Severus for his eventual defeat of Voldemort. He already knew that he was in debt to Severus for his role as double agent but Severus took him aside and told him about the times Azalea had intervened and watched out for him – the Battle of the Ministry, against the Death Eaters on the day Dumbledore had died; on his travels looking for the horcruxes; keeping Gringotts bank from the control of Voldemort and later saving many lives at Gringotts while Harry flew away on the dragon; her defeat of the dementors, giants and werewolves at the Battle of Hogwarts and how she had saved Harry from dying when he finally faced Voldemort. Harry and Ginny kept their secret and when Harry’s tale was told, Azalea’s role and relationship with Severus was not included. As far as the larger world was aware Severus Snape had died in the Shrieking Shack, but Harry was pleased that his cousin had found love and happiness with a man he now knew to be brave and loyal and he could not fault her choice.

Severus did not tell Harry that Azalea’s greatest contribution to the war had been her loyalty and unconditional love and support for Severus. Without her it would have been so easy for him to slip over entirely onto Voldemort’s side, with his promises of glory and power, especially after Dumbledore’s death and Snape’s alienation from his colleagues and students. She had given him something real and tangible to cling to, like a life raft adrift in a hostile ocean. Now, she was his rock and in the lyrics of the song he had sung to her on their wedding day, everything he did, he did for her. Everything he was now, he owed to her. His feelings for her were more than just gratitude, it was enduring, eternal love.

As for the identity of her grandfather, Azalea told the children as they reached adulthood. Otherwise, it was another secret best kept from the world. 

The door of their house opened and Azalea and Severus were greeted by Winky, who still insisted upon serving My Lady and Master Severus. Winky and her husband Scotty were now part of the household along with their three children. Azalea and Severus had frequently offered to free Winky and Scotty but neither wanted to be released, being bound by loyalty and affection gave them a sense of security. Their children were all were free elves. The wizard community in the USA had no tolerance for slavery of any form. 

Azalea and Severus sat outside in the warm California sunshine watching Fawkes soar in the open sky, the sun reflecting from his plumage making him look like a flying jewel. They filled up a glass each with a wine spritzer and listened to music. 

Severus leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes and let the music wash over him. He indulged himself thinking about how his life had turned out. When he was Geryon’s age he had expected that he would marry Lily Evans and live happily ever after. Perhaps it would have been their child that was the Chosen One and that he and Lily would have died defending him against the Dark Lord with no happy ever after. He stopped thinking about what might have been and thought instead about that which was. He needed no imaginary child, he had four real ones and he was eternally grateful that he had married the woman he did and not the one he didn’t.

He thought about his children. Luke, his first born, dependable and intelligent, training to be a healer and follow in his mother’s footsteps. Helen, - he’d considered her lovely from the moment she was born but he soon became aware that it was more than a father’s bias. Now he couldn’t imagine that there would ever be a man worthy of her. Geryon was a little rascal. Sometimes Severus struggled to keep a straight face when teachers described Geryon’s latest exploits to him and he had to be appropriately stern when reprimanding him. Afterwards he and Azalea would crease up with laughter at the antics of their son, behaviour which Severus would not have tolerated when he was Professor Snape, the potions master. Ruth, little Ruth, she was overshadowed by her extrovert twin and her beautiful sister, but she was the child of his heart. She was the one who would snuggle up next to him on the sofa, and her small hand would slip unbidden into his when he was walking. He was the most important man in her young life and he dreaded the day it was no longer so. If the situation ever arose, he would protect all of his children with his life but for Ruth he would be fury unleashed. 

He opened his eyes when there was a pause between tracks in the music and he watched Fawkes flying overhead. A few years’ ago Fawkes had returned with a mate and they had raised a clutch of chicks. Once the chicks were grown and left the nest, his mate had flown away and had not returned. Clearly phoenixes did not mate for life unlike himself and Azalea. They had a good marriage, - to be sure they had their ups and downs, arguments and disagreements but they had always resolved them and their marriage had not suffered for it. 

He heard Azalea’s voice as she spoke to the house elves and not for first time he wondered where he would be without her. He knew the immediate answer, he would be dead. His bones would be lying forgotten in the shrieking shack. He and Azalea were never exactly sure what had stopped him dying that day – whether it was her healing powers, the phoenix tears or even his own will to live, probably a combination of all three. Whatever it was, since that near death experience he had felt freed of the guilt, hatred and resentment that had dogged his younger days. It was as if he had been washed clean, forgiven and had granted forgiveness in return. 

Azalea studied her husband and turned her thoughts to how he had changed her life. During the battle of Hogwarts when she believed him dead, she had been out of control. Who knew if she would have become a Dark Lady after that day, wreaking her revenge on all who had followed the Dark Lord who had killed her husband? With Severus returned to her she felt calm and strong, he helped keep the evil in her at bay by his loyalty, commitment and enduring love. 

The music changed to a song that Severus had loved to sing. His singing voice had never returned despite all of Azalea’s attempts to heal it. His speaking voice had also altered but his view was that the loss of his voice to the snake bite, which could have led to his death, was a small price to pay for the way his life had turned out. It was some compensation that all of their children could sing like angels.

Azalea watched Severus when the song came on and he made no reaction to suggest he mourned no longer being able to sing. Occasionally Azalea would listen to the recording she had once made of him singing lullabies to Luke and regretted that which was lost. Azalea looked fondly at her husband immersed in the music, and at the house elf family playing in the swimming pool, she thought of Luke and Helen, adults now with the world at their feet, she thought of Ruth and Geryon happy at school. That which she had gained was without price and all was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That concludes my story. Thank you to everyone who had stuck with me to the end, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> When I started the project I thought it would be over in a few chapters but the more I wrote the more I wanted to say. I admit that the story is a bit of a curate’s egg, but I hope that you found the good parts to your liking.
> 
> In my imagination Severus is now living happily in California with his family and is not a mummified corpse in the Shrieking Shack.


End file.
